621 
.P27 


LIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  182202727  1337 


3MOIR 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS 


AN  DIEGO 


§  1822  027271337 


MEMOIR 


OF 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS. 


PUBLISHED   FOR   THE   BENEFIT  OF 


THE    CAMBRIDGE    HOSPITAL. 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  CO. 

1880. 


Copyright,  1880, 
BY  TIIEOPHILUS  PARSONS. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS. 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON.  CAMBRIDGE. 


NOTE. 


DURING  the  late  war,  my  daughter  served  in  the 
military  hospitals  of  Fort  Schuyler  in  New  York ; 
Lawson  Hospital  in  St.  Louis ;  ou  a  hospital  steamer  on 
the  Mississippi,  from  St.  Louis  to  Vicksburg ;  and  in 
Benton  Barracks  Hospital  in  St.  Louis, — from  Octo- 
ber, 1862,  to  August,  1864.  This  Memoir  consists 
mainly  of  letters  which  she  wrote  from  those  places. 
It  was  prepared  only  for  private  distribution  among 
her  friends,  with  no  intention  of  sale  or  publication. 

N, 

But  the  letters  contain  many  details  of  hospital  life, 
and  of  incidents  of  the  war  connected  with  them  ;  and 
they  who  have  read  them  think  the  book  may  have 
some  interest  beyond  that  which  arises  from  a  personal 
regard  for  the  writer  of  the  letters.  An  earnest  effort 

O  t 

is  about  to  be  made  to  establish,  upon  a  permanent 
foundation,  the  Cambridge  Hospital,  instituted  by  her 
in  1867 ;  and  I  have  been  urged,  by  those  whose  opi- 
nions I  am  bound  to  respect,  and  who  are  foremost  in 
that  effort,  to  permit  the  publication  of  the  book  for  the 
benefit  of  the  Hospital. 

THEOPHILUS  PARSONS. 


MEMOIR 

OP 

EMILY    ELIZABETH    PARSONS. 


could  be  farther  from  the  wishes, 
the  tastes  or  habits  of  my  daughter  Emily, 
than  an  effort  to  magnify  the  events  of  her  life 
into  undue  importance,  or  to  found  upon  them 
claims  for  unusual  regard.  But  she  had  some  pe- 
culiar traits  of  character,  and  some  unusual  oppor- 
tunities for  usefulness,  in  connection  with  the 
civil  war,  of  which  this  brief  and  simple  record 
may  be  interesting  to  the  friends  for  whom  alone 
it  is  intended. 

She  was  born  March  8,  1824,  and  died  May  19, 
1880. 

From  her  childhood  she  manifested  more  than 
common  energy,  and  a  disposition  to  earnest  and 
persistent  activity.  But  this  natural  tendency  was 
combated  and  suppressed,  to  a  large  extent,  by 


2  MEMOIR   OF 

many  physical  hindrances.  These  were  so  oppres- 
sive that  they  who  knew  best  what  she  did,  and 
under  what  disadvantages  she  labored,  could  not 
but  be  surprised  that  she  was  able  to  accomplish  so 
much.  But  she  never  seemed  to  yield  to  dispirit- 
ing circumstances  ;  or,  indeed,  to  obstacles  which 
it  was  possible  to  overcome. 

When  about  five  years  old  she  ran  a  sharp  pair 
of  scissors  into  the  pupil  of  her  right  eye.  The 
wound  soon  healed,  but  the  iris  and  the  lenses 
were  badly  torn,  and  the  eye,  though  not  much 
disfigured,  was  so  much  injured  that  she  was  en- 
tirely unable  to  make  any  use  of  it.  A  sympathy 
with  the  wounded  eye,  or,  perhaps,  the  extra  work 
thrown  upon  the  other  eye,  weakened  it,  so  that 
she  never  had  that  unimpeded  sight  that  they 
have  who  possess  healthy  organs. 

When  seven  years  old,  she  was  extremely  ill 
with  scarlet-fever.  The  disease  left  her  totally 
deaf.  From  this  she  gradually  recovered,  and  in 
adult  life  was  able  to  hear  whatever  was  distinctly 
addressed  to  her,  but  could  not  join  freely  in  gen- 
eral conversation. 

When  about  twenty-five  years  old,  she  injured 
an  ankle  very  severely,  breaking  some  of  the 
cords.  It  was  exceedingly  painful,  and  for  some 


EMILY   ELIZABETH    PARSONS.  3 

time  she  made  no  use  of  her  foot.  It  gradually 
grew  better,  but  never  entirely  well ;  and'  she  was 
under  medical  treatment  for  it  at  brief  intervals 
during  her  life.  She  could  and  did  walk  a  great 
deal,  seldom  complaining,  although  the  pain  and 
weakness  sometimes  compelled  entire  rest.  But 
she  suffered  much  from  lameness,  and  when  obliged 
to  stand  or  walk  for  a  long  time  continuously,  the 
pain  compelled  a  temporary  abstinence  from  all 
use  of  the  foot.  But  as  longfas  it  was  possible  to 
discharge  her  duties,  she  did  so,  regardless  of  the 
suffering,  and  yielding  to  it  only  upon  strict  com- 
pulsion. 

Npne  of  these  hindrances,  nor  all  of  them  to- 
gether, prevented  her  from  doing  all  in  her  power 
to  relieve  the  suffering  of  any  whom  she  could 
reach.  This  seemed  to  be  her  prevailing  purpose. 
She  had  only  the  opportunities  which  offer  them- 
selves to  unmarried  women  who  seek  for  them,  un- 
til in  1861  the  war  of  the  Rebellion  broke  out. 
She  at  once  declared  her  desire  to  enlist  in  the 
army  as  a  nurse.  I  confess  that  I  yielded  to  her 
wishes  with  great  reluctance ;  for  it  seemed  to  me 
that  her  blindness,  deafness  and  lameness,  offered 
obstacles  to  her  usefulness  as  a  hospital  nurse  which 
could  not  be  overcome.  But  her  wishes  were  too 


4  MEMOIR   OF 

strong  to  be  resisted.  She  knew  the  difficulties 
under  which  she  labored,  but  earnestly  desired  to 
make  the  effort  and  do  as  much  as  she  could.  She 
was  advised  by  those  who  knew,  that  there  was  an 
abundance  of  willing  but  uninstructed  service  of 
this  kind  offering  ;  and  she  attended  the  Massachu- 
setts Hospital,  in  Boston,  as  a  volunteer  nurse, 
sleeping  at  home,  but  passing  her  days  in  the  hos- 
pital. There  she  was  kindly  received  by  the 
whole  medical  staff,  and  carefully  instructed  in 
such  work  as  might  be  required  of  her  in  the  duty 
she  proposed  to  undertake.  She  remained  more 
than  a  year,  —  until  she  was  assured  that  she  was 
entirely  competent  to  do  useful  work  as  a  nurse  in 
a  military  hospital.  Then  she  volunteered  in  that 
capacity. 

She  was  at  once  appointed  to  the  hospital  at 
Fort  Schuyler,  near  New  York,  and  left  home 
for  that  hospital  Oct.  15,  1862.  Under  the  la- 
bor and  exposure  of  the  post,  her  health  broke 
down,  and  in  the  beginning  of  1863  she  went 
to  New  York,  visiting  a  friend.  In  a  few  weeks 
she  was  summoned,  somewhat  urgently,  to  St. 
Louis.  Without  any  delay,  she  went  at  once 
from  New  York  to  St.  Louis,  and  reached  that 
city  on  Jan.  26,  1863.  The  hospital  there,  called 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  5 

the  Lawson  Hospital,  was  one  of  the  largest 
military  hospitals  in  the  country.  She  was  at 
once  appointed  a  nurse  in  that  hospital.  Here 
she  remained  but  a  few  weeks,  when  she  was 
asked  to  take  charge  of  the  nursing  department 
on  board  a  large  steamer,  which  was  to  go  down 
the  Mississippi  to  bring  up  the  sick  and  wound- 
ed to  the  hospitals.  On  February  12,  1863,  she 
started  down  the  river,  and  went  as  far  as  Vicks- 
burg,  where  the  conflict  was  then  going  on.  She 
returned  in  about  a  month  to  St.  Louis.  There 
she  was  at  once  attacked  by  malarial  fever,  con- 
tracted on  Che  river.  She  was  quite  ill  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  her  letters,  when  she  was  able 
to  write,  bear  the  strongest  testimony  to  the  ex- 
ceeding kindness  and  tenderness  with  which  she 
was  treated  at  the  house  of  a  stranger  who  had 
become  a  friend. 

When  she  recovered  her  health,  she  was  as- 
signed to  the  great  hospital  in  St.  Louis,  called  the 
Benton  Barracks  Hospital,  and  was  placed  at  once 
in  charge  of  the  whole  nursing  department  of  this 
hospital,  which  was  prepared  at  first  for  two  thou- 
sand patients,  and  later,  for  twenty-five  hundred. 

I  was  then,  and  am  now,  wholly  unable  to  ac- 
count for  this.  I  can  explain  it  only  on  the  sup- 


C  MEMOIR   OF 

position  that,  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  this 
country  had  no  experience  which  prepared  our  cit- 
izens for  the  work  of  war.  Multitudes  of  impor- 
tant and  arduous  offices,  both  in  the  army  and  out 
of  it,  were  to  be  filled ;  and  they  who  had  the  ap- 
pointing power  could  only  make  the  best  use  they 
could  of  the  material  offered  them,  and  judge  of  it 
as  well  as  they  could  by  the  evidence  they  had. 
Some  of  these  appointments  were  successful,  and 
others  were  not.  It  will  be  my  effort  to  exhibit, 
mainly  from  my  daughter's  letters,  what  duties 
were  assigned  to  her,  and  in  what  way  she  dis- 
charged them. 

She  remained  in  that  post  until  late  in  1803, 
when  she  was  again  attacked  with  malarial  fever, 
and  was  so  ill  that  it  was  thought  necessary  for  her 
to  return  home.  She  came  home,  recovered  her 
health,  and  in  March,  1864,  returned  to  St.  Louis. 
She  resumed  her  post  in  the  hospital,  and  re- 
mained there  until  late  in  the  autumn  of  that 
year,  when  she  was  again  attacked  with  malarial 
disease,  and  finally  returned  home. 

During  the  years  she  passed  in  St.  Louis,  her 
family  received  many  letters  from  her.  In  the 
midst  of  her  work  it  seemed  to  comfort  her  to 
communicate  with  her  distant  home,  which  she  had 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  7 

never  left  before.  I  have  found  it  very  difficult 
to  choose  such  parts  of  these  letters  as  it  would  be 
well  to  print.  Of  course,  of  some  of  them  the 
whole,  and  of  all  a  large  part,  relate  to  family 
and  home  matters,  which  there  is  no  reason  for 
printing.  I  am  very  doubtful  whether  the  selection 
I  have  made  is  a  wise  one.  To  me  they  are  all  in- 
teresting ;  but  I  cannot  expect  them  to  be  so  to  oth- 
ers. I  have  been  guided  in  my  final  choice  by  what 
I  have  already  said  is  the  purpose  of  this  sketch. 
That  is,  I  have  selected  only  parts  of  such  letters 
as  seem  to  me  to  exhibit  the  work  she  did,  and  the 
manner  in  which  she  did  it.  What  I  print,  I 
print  just  as  it  was  written,  for  I  wished  it  to  re- 
main obvious  that  these  letters  were  written  with- 
out the  slightest  thought  of  their  ever  meeting 
other  eyes  than  those  for  which  they  were  written. 
I  have  omitted  nothing  more  unwillingly  than 
the  letters  in  which  she  often  expresses  her  grate- 
ful acknowledgment,  not  merely  of  the  universal 
kindness  she  met  with  from  all  with  whom  she  had 
any  relations  in  St.  Louis,  but  of  the  tender  and 
constant  care  bestowed  upon  her,  when  she  most 
needed  it,  by  those  who  took  her,  a  stranger,  to 
their  homes  when  sick,  and  made  her  feel  indeed 
at  home  there.  Gentlemen  like  Mr.  Yeatman,  so 


8  MEMOIR  OF 

well  known  through  the  country  for  his  services  in 
the  Sanitary  Commission,  and  Mr.  Hasard,  the 
President  of  that  Commission,  under  whose  direc- 
tion she  was,  and  whom  she  was  constantly  meet- 
ing, held  it  to  be  their  duty  to  take  good  care  of 
her.  Not  content  with  this,  they  spared  no  oppor- 
tunities of  manifesting  the  most  constant,  careful, 
and  considerate  attention  to  everything  which 
could  conduce  to  her  comfort,  —  and,  indeed,  to  all 
her  wants  and  wishes. 

I  have  already  mentioned  some  of  the  obstacles 
to  my  daughter's  usefulness.  She  had,  however, 
two  characteristics  which  must  have  been  helpful. 
One  was  great  fearlessness.  Very  seldom  did  I 
know  her  to  manifest  fear  of  anything.  This 
must  have  made  it  easier  for  her  to  encounter 
some  of  the  risks  to  which  she  was  called  upon  to 
expose  herself.  Another  useful  quality  was  the 
entire  absence  of  what  is  called  nervousness.  There 
are  ladies  who  shrink  from  the  sight  of  blood,  and 
some  who  faint  at  even  hearing  of  it.  So  far  as  I 
know,  my  daughter  had  no  weakness  of  this  kind, 
but  faced  at  once  wounds  however  ghastly,  or  as- 
sisted at  surgical  operations^  without  shrinking  or 
tremor,  and  was  never  disturbed  by  the  sight  of 
death. 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.       .        •        9 

On  the  whole,  I  should  infer  from  her  letters 
that  she  was  successful  in  her  work.  But  I  have 
other  evidence  of  this,  of  a  kind  which  may  be 
more  satisfactory.  Miss  Sophia  Knight,  of  Boston, 
a  friend  of  my  daughter,  and  a  most  intelligent  lady, 
requested  of  her  an  opportunity  to  be  of  service, 
and  joined  her  at  Benton  Barracks,  and  was  there 
for  some  six  months  in  1864.  In  a  letter  to  me 
she  says, — 

"  In  speaking  with  me  of  your  daughter,  which  he 
often  did,  Dr.  Russell  expressed  very  full  appreciation 
of  the  rare  combination  of  zeal  and  executive  ability 
which  she  evinced  throughout  her  services  in  the  large 
hospital,  of  which  he  was  surgeon  in  charge.  Her 
self-forgetfulness  and  watchfulness,  her  readiness  in 
emergencies,  her  successful  accomplishment  of  wise 
and  useful  plans,  also  the  promptness  of  her  measures 
against  anything  leading  toward  disorder,  seemed 
wonderful  to  him." 

Mr.  Yeatman  of  St.  Louis,  to  whom  I  have  al- 
ready alluded,  and  who  was  widely  known  and  will 
be  long  remembered  for  his  devotion  to  his  most 
important  duties  during  the  war,  writes  me  as 
follows  :  — 

"  The  hospital  was  under  the  charge  of  Dr.  Ira  Rus- 
sell, a  very  liberal  and  enlightened  physician  from 


10  MEMOIR   OF 

Massachusetts.  Of  all  the  nurses  who  entered  the  ser- 
vice in  the  AYesteru  department,  your  daughter  was  the 
only  one  previously  trained  and  educated  for  the  duties 
she  assumed.  She  organized  her  corps  of  nurses,  having 
been  appointed  supervisor,  and  went  systematically  to 
work  to  train  the  band  of  noble  women  who  came  with 
willing  hands  and  hearts,  but  entirely  without  experi- 
ence for  the  work.  She  succeeded  admirably  iu  her 
work,  and  we  had  no  hospital  in  the  Western  depart- 
ment where  nursing  was  brought  to  so  great  perfec- 
tion. She  continued  iu  this  position  until  stricken 
down  by  disease  in  August,  1864.  During  her  sick- 
ness, while  confined  to  bed,  she  continued  to  have 
the  nurses  report  directly  to  her  each  day  for  advice 
and  instruction.  Her  heart,  mind,  and  body  were 
given  to  her  work,  and  she  could  rarely,  if  ever,  be  in- 
duced to  seek  relief  or  recreation  outside  of  the  hos- 
pital grounds.  In  connection  with  the  Benton  Bar- 
racks was  the  Refugee  Hospital  and  the  Freedman's 
Hospital,  which  she  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  and 
of  rendering  such  service  there  as  she  was  capable  of 
performing.  She  was  a  true  and  generous  Christian 
philanthropist,  embracing  all,  of  every  race,  sex,  and 
condition,  never  sparing  herself. 

"  My  duties  in  connection  with  the  Western  Sani- 
tary Commission  brought  me  frequently  in  contact  (al- 
most daily  when  in  the  city),  with  your  daughter,  and 
so  I  am  capable  of  bearing  testimony  to  the  fidelity 
and  ability  with  which  she  discharged  her  duties." 


EMILY   ELIZABETH    PARSONS.         .  11 

In  1867  was  published  in  Philadelphia  an  oc- 
tavo volume  entitled  "  Woman's  Work  in  the  War." 
It  contains  sketches  of  the  lives  of  a  great  number 
of  women  from  all  parts  of  the  Northern  States, 
who  were  of  service  in  the  war.  It  is,  so  far  as  I 
know,  accurate ;  and  it  seems  surprisingly  so,  con- 
sidering the  large  number  of  those  concerning 
whom  exact  inquiry  had  to  be  made.  A  glance  at 
the  book  shows  that  the  records  of  different  hos- 
pitals were  examined  and  other  sources  of  informa- 
tion made  use  of.  Emily  E.  Parsons  is  one  of 
those  spoken  of.  I  quote  from  the  notice  of  her, 
the  following  extracts. 

After  stating  her  decided  wish  to  volunteer  in 
the  war,  this  notice  goes  on,  thus  :  — 

"  With  her  father's  approval  she  consulted  with  Dr. 
Wyman,  of  Cambridge,  how  she  could  acquire  the 
necessary  instruction  and  training  to  perform  the  du- 
ties of  a  skilful  nurse  in  the  hospitals.  Through  his 
influence  with  Dr.  Shaw,  the  Superintendent  of  the 
Massachusetts  General  Hospital,  she  was  received  into 
that  institution  as  a  pupil  in  the  work  of  caring  for 
the  sick,  in  the  dressing  of  wounds,  in  the  preparation 
of  diet  for  invalids,  and  in  all  that  pertains  to  a  well- 
regulated  hospital.  She  was  thoroughly  and  carefully 
instructed  by  the  surgeons  of  the  hospital,  all  of 
whom  took  great  interest  in  fitting  her  for  the  im- 


12  MEMOIR   OF 

portant  duties  she  proposed  to  undertake,  and  gave  her 
every  opportunity  to  practise,  with  her  own  hands,  the 
labors  of  a  good  hospital  nurse.  Dr.  Warren  and  Dr. 
Townshend,  two  distinguished  surgeons,  took  special 
pains  to  give  her  all  necessary  information  and  the 
most  thorough  instruction.  At  the  end  of  one  year 
and  a  half  of  combined  teaching  and  practice,  she  was 
recommended  by  Dr.  Townshend  to  Fort  Schuyler 
Hospital,  on  Long  Island  Sound,  where  she  went  in 
October,  1862,  and  for  two  months  performed  the 
duties  of  hospital  nurse,  in  the  most  faithful  and  satis- 
factory manner." 

After  describing  h'er  service  in  that  and  another 
hospital  the  book  goes  on  :  — 

"  She  was  needed  for  a  still  more  important  service, 
and  was  placed  as  head  nurse  on  the  hospital  steamer 
"  City  of  Alton,"  Surgeon  Turner  in  charge.  A  large 
supply  of  sanitary  stores  were  entrusted  to  her  care  by 
the  Western  Sanitary  Commission,  and  the  steamer 
proceeded  to  Vicksburg,  where  she  was  loaded  with 
about  four  hundred  invalid  soldiers,  many  of  them  sick 
past  recovery,  and  returned  as  far  as  Memphis.  On 
this  trip  the  strength  and  endurance  of  Miss  Parsons 
were  tried  to  the  utmost,  and  the  ministrations  of  her- 
self and  her  associates  to  the  poor,  helpless,  and  suffer- 
ing men,  several  of  whom  died  on  the  passage  up  the 
river,  were  constant  and  unremitting.  .  .  . 

"  For  a  few  weeks  after  her  return  to  St.  Louis,  she 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  13 

suffered  from  an  attack  of  malarial  fever,  and  on  her 
recovery  was  assigned  to  duty  at  the  Benton  Barracks 
Hospital,  the  largest  of  all  the  hospitals  in  St.  Louis, 

—  built  out  of  the  amphitheatre  and  other  buildings  in 
the  Fair  Grounds  of  the  St.  Louis  Agricultural  Society, 

—  and  placed  in  charge  of  Surgeon  Ira  Russell,  an  ex- 
cellent physician  from    Natick,  Mass.     In  this  large 
hospital  there  were  often  two  thousand  patients.  .  .  . 

"  It  was  the  duty  of  the  nurses  to  attend  to  the 
special  diet  of  the  feebler  patients,  to  see  that  the 
wards  were  kept  in  order,  the  beds  properly  made, 
the  dressing  of  wounds  properly  done,  to  minister  to 
the  wants  of  the  patients,  and  to  give  them  words  of 
good  cheer,  both  by  reading  and  conversation  —  soft- 
ening the  rougher  treatment  and  manners  of  the  male 
nurses  by  their  presence,  and  performing  the  more 
delicate  offices  of  kindness  that  are  natural  to  women. 

"  In  this  important  and  useful  service  these  nurses, 
many  of  them  having  but  little  experience,  needed  one 
.of  their  own  number  of  superior  knowledge,  judgment, 
and  experience,  to  supervise  their  work,  counsel  and 
advise  with  them,  instruct  them  in  their  duties,  secure 
obedience  to  every  necessary  regulation,  and  good 
order  in  the  general  administration  of  this  important 
branch  of  hospital  service.  For  this  position  Miss 
Parsons  was  most  admirably  fitted,  and  discharged  its 
duties  with  great  fidelity  and  success  for  many  months, 

—  as  long  as  Dr.  Russell  continued  in  charge  of  the 
hospital. 

"  The  whole  work  of  female  nursing  was  reduced  to 


14  MEMOIR   OF 

a  perfect  system,  and  the  nurses  under  Miss  Parsons 
influence  became  a  sisterhood  of  noble  women,  per- 
forming a  great  and  loving  service  to  the  maimed  and 
suffering  defenders  of  their  country.  In  the  organiza- 
tion of  this  system,  and  the  framing  of  wise  rules  for 
carrying  it  into  effect,  Dr.  Russell  and  Mr.  Yeatman 
lent  their  counsel  and  assistance,  and  Dr.  Russell,  as 
the  chief  surgeon,  entertained  those  enlightened  and 
liberal  views  which  gave  the  system  a  full  chance  to 
accomplish  the  best  results.  Under  his  administra- 
tion, and  Miss  Parsons'  superintendence  of  the  nurs- 
ing, the  Benton  Barracks  Hospital  became  famous  for 
its  excellence,  and  the  rapid  recovery  of  the  patients." 

On  June  18,  1864,  my  daughter  was  notified  to 
attend  a  meeting  of  the  medical  staff  of  the  hos- 
pital. She  attended,  expecting  nothing  unusual, 
and  took  her  customary  place.  As  soon  as  the  staff 
was  assembled,  Drs.  May  and  Russell  rose,  and  Dr. 
May  made  an  address  to  her,  closing  as  follows  :  — 

"  The  value  of  your  individual  services  during  this 
rebellion  will  not  be  unappreciated  by  the  recipients 
of  your  kindness.  These  services  have  been  rendered 
over  a  broad  extent  of  country,  in  hospitals,  and  at 
Vicksburg  during  the  memorable  siege,  when  pesti- 
lence and  death  were  hourly  presented  to  your  view. 
No  one  can  appreciate  your  services  better  than  the 
medical  staff  with  whom  you  have  labored,  and  the 
patients  of  this  hospital.  Our  association  has  been  of 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  15 

long  duration  and  of  the  most  pleasant  *  character. 
Thousands  have  left  here  who  will  associate  with 
your  name  some  of  the  most  pleasant  recollections  of 
the  past. 

"  Dr.  Russell  then  said  to  her,  '  I  have  the  honor 
this  evening  in  behalf  of  the  medical  staff  whom  I 
represent,  to  present  to  you  this  goblet  as  a  slight, 
but  sincere  token  of  our  appreciation  of  your  services, 
and  to  beg  you  to  accept  the  same.' " 

This  goblet,  or  vase,  was  of  silver,  lined  with  gold, 
and  beautiful  in  form  and  workmanship.  She 
brought  it  home,  showed  it  to  her  parents,  brothers, 
and  sisters,  then  locked  it  up  and  kept  it  locked 
up.  I  have  been  able  to  find,  among  her  intimate 
friends,  but  one  who  ever  saw  it.  I  believe  no 
one  else  out  of  her  own  family  ever  saw  it ;  and 
of  her  cousins  and  many  friends  I  have  found 
one  or  two  only  who  ever  heard  of  it.  Her 
brother,  "t^harles  Chauncey  Parsons,  was  absent 
from  home,  in  the  army,  at  the  time  she  re- 
turned. He  is  sitting  by  me  as  I  write,  and  tells 
me  he  never  saw  the  vase,  and  never  heard  01 
it  until  to-day. 

I  think  this  circumstance  illustrates  one  trait 
in  her  character.  She  very  seldom  referred  in  any 
way  to  any  of  her  past  services,  and  I  never  heard 


16  MEMOIR  OF 

from  her  one  word  in  relation  to  them,  or  to  any 
of  her  work,  which  has  the  slightest  flavor  of  dis- 
play or  self-ascription. 

I  now  quote  again  from  the  book  already  referred 
to,  "  Woman's  Work  in  the  War  "  :  — 

"  She  continued  till  August,  1864,  when  her  health 
again  failed,  and  she  returned  to  her  home  in  Cam- 
bridge. On  recovering  her  health  she  concluded  to 
enter  upon  the  same  work  in  the  Eastern  department, 
but  the  return  of  peace  and  the  disbanding  of  a  large 
portion  of  the  army  rendered  her  services  in  the  hos- 
pitals no  longer  necessary. 

"From  this  time  she  devoted  herself  at  home  to 
working  for  the  freedmen  and  refugees,  collecting 
clothing  and  garden-seeds  for  them,  many  boxes  of 
which  she  shipped  to  the  Western  Sanitary  Commis- 
sion, at  St.  Louis,  to  be  distributed  in  the  Mississippi 
Valley,  where  they  were  greatly  needed,  and  were 
received  as  a  blessing  from  the  Lord,  by  the  poor  refu- 
gees and  freedmen,  who  in  many  instances  were  with- 
out the  means  to  help  themselves,  or  to  buy  seed  for 
the  next  year's  planting. 

"  In  the  spring  of  1865,  she  took  a  great  interest  in 
the  Sanitary  Fair,  held  at  Chicago,  collected  many 
valuable  gifts  for  it,  and  was  sent  for  by  the  Committee 
of  Arrangements  to  go  out  as  one  of  the  managers  of 
the  department  furnished^  by  the  New  Jerusalem 
church  —  the  different  churches  having  separate  de- 
partments in  the  Fair.  This  duty  she  fulfilled,  with 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PAKSONS.  17 

great  pleasure  and  success,  and  the  general  results  of 
the  Fair  were  all  that  could  be  desired." 

"  In  concluding  this  sketch  of  the  labors  of  Miss  Par- 
sons in  the  care  and  nursing  of  our  sick  and  wounded 
soldiers,  and  in  the  sanitary  and  other  benevolent 
enterprises  called  forth  by  the  war,  it  is  but  just  to 
say  that,  in  every  position  she  occupied,  she  performed 
her  part  with  judgment  and  fidelity,  and  always  brought 
to  her  work  a  spirit  animated  by  the  highest  motives, 
and  strengthened  by  communion  with  the  Infinite 
Spirit  from  whom  all  love  and  wisdom  come  to  aid 
and  bless  the  children  of  men.  Everywhere  as  she 
went  among  the  sick  and  suffering,  she  brought  the 
sunshine  of  a  cheerful  and  loving  heart,  beaming  from 
a  countenance  expressive  of  kindness  and  good-will  and 
sympathy  to  all." 

"  Her  presence  in  the  hospital  was  always  a  blessing, 
and  cheered  and  comforted  many  a  despondent  heart, 
and  compensated  in  some  degree,  for  the  absence  of 
the  loved  ones  at  home." 

I  will  now  let  her  letters  speak  for  themselves. 
I  begin  with  those  sent  home  from  Fort  Schuyler. 
There  are  but  a  few  of  them,  and  I  give  extracts, 
more  or  less  copious,  from  every  one  of  these. 


18  MEMOIR  OF 


LETTER  I. 

FORT  SCHCYLER  HOSPITAL, 
October  22. 

DEAR  SISTER  SABRA,  —  I  thought  you  and  my  family 
woald  like  to  know  my  whereabouts.  We  have  still 
only  four  hundred  men.  Yesterday  I  came  down  here 
and  took  charge  of  a  ward  of  forty-eight  men  and  four 
attendants.  Think  of  finding  yourself  all  at  once  at 
the  head  of  such  a  family.  I  came  here,  in  the  morn- 
ing and  immediately  commenced  work.  I  should  not 
think  the  ward  had  been  thoroughly  cleaned  since  it 
was  occupied,  for  they  have  only  had  orderlies  here,  and 
the  hea.d  surgeon  wished  me  to  take  charge  at  once. 
It  is  very  large  ;  will  receive  fifty -eight  beds  if  neces- 
sary. I  had  a  general  rectification,  baskets  of  bandages 
and  lint  and  surgical  matters  put  in  order  for  the 
surgeon,  stoves  put  in  order,  taught  my  orderlies 
how  to  make  beds,  &c.  This  morning  I  had  my 
whole  ward  swept  out,  under  beds,  in  corners,  and 
everywhere,  my  beds  properly  made  &c;  then  in  comes 
the  surgeon  and  assistant;  I  attend  them,  see  that  they 
have  what  is  needed  and  assist  if  necessary ;  this  is  my 
hard  hour,  it  is  so  hard  to  see  the  poor  men  suffer ;  oh 
those  horrid  probes !  Then,  when  all  this  is  through, 
the  surgeon  writes  out  his  diet  and  medical  orders  in 
two  books,  which  I  keep.  My  day  begins  early,  reveille 
at  six,  I  must  be  up  before  to  get  beds  made,  ward 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  19 

swept  out,  dressings  attended  to,  and  wounds  unban- 
daged  and  washed  ready  for  the  surgeon's  inspection, 
and  whatever  he  chooses  to  do.  He  comes  at  half-past 
eight.  This  morning  the  head  surgeon  of  the  hospital 
appeared,  and  after  an  examination,  informed  me  that 
my  ward  was  the  nicest  looking  one  in  the  whole 
hospital. 

Monday.  I  am  now  going  to  try  to  finish  my  letter; 
this  is  the  first  time  I  have  found  time,  unless  I  drove 
fearfully,  and  hardly  then.  We  have  new  arrangements 
now ;  I  think  I  will  give  you  my  day's  routine.  First, 
up  early ;  one  of  my  orderlies  sweeps  down  the  ward, 
the  two  others  take,  one  each  side  of  the  ward,  and 
make  the  beds,  at  which  I  must  assist  if  I  want  the 
ward  ready  in  time.  Before  it  is  quite  done  the 
orderly  who  goes  for  breakfast  leaves  with  another 
dining-room  orderly ;  I  work  on,  breakfast  comes,  one 
kind  for  those  sick  in  the  ward,  and  the  other,  house- 
rations  for  the  rest  of  my  men  and  the  orderlies.  One 
of  the  attendants  has  set  out  the  plates  on  the  dresser 
which  runs  round  the  first  room,  —  dining-room  it  is 
called.  I  prepare  on  plates  the  breakfast  for  each  man 
on  sick-rations  according  to  the  rules  the  Doctor  has 
written  out  in  his  order-book  for  me.  A  good  while 
previous  to  each  meal  I  must  send  down  the  order  for 
it,  signed  with  my  name  and  ward. 

I  am  matron  of  Ward  6  ;  I  have  at  present  forty-five 
children,  besides  my  orderlies,  who  require  a  tight  hand 
kept  over  them.  Some  of  them  will  leave  soon  and 
the  ward  be  filled  up  to  its  full  number;  probably,  the 


20  MEMOIR   OF 

surgeon  said,  with  bad  cases ;  my  ward  has  the  worst 
cases  in  it  now  that  are  here,  with  the  exception  of  one 
or  two  elsewhere.  I  like  the  surgeon  very  much  who 
attends  to  this  ward  ;  he  is  very  skilful,  firm,  and  at  the 
same  time  gentle  and  kind  as  possible.  He  is  a  thorough 
gentleman,  to  my  great  delight;  the  rest  of  the  doctors 
are  gentlemanly,  pleasant  men.  As  my  ward  has  so 
many  bad  cases  it  is  uncommonly  interesting ;  there- 
fore a  group  of  them  generally  meet  here,  with  more 
satisfaction  to  themselves  than  to  the  patients,  I  think. 
After  breakfast,  I  see  to  the  finishing  up  of  the  ward. 
My  doctor  is  fearfully  particular.  Just  as  I  began  to 
write  about  him,  I  heard  a  tap,  and  there  he  was,  for 
his  night  report  ;  he  is  a  very  handsome  man,  tall  and 
dignified. 

Tuesday  niyht.  I  had  to  stop  last  night  to  attend  to 
my  children.  When  the  ward  is  in  order  I  get  ready 
for  the  surgeon,  see  that  the  baskets  containing  various 
applications  and  dressings  and  the  table  the  Doctor 
uses  are  standing  in  a  particular  place  in  the  ward ; 
the  basins  with  sponges  and  the  pails  with  hot  and 
cold  water  in  their  places.  I  have  barely  time  to  do 
this  before  in  marches  the  Doctor,  at  nine  o'clock ;  then 
he  writes  down  his  prescriptions  and  diet  list  for  the 
day  in  his  two  books,  as  he  visits  the  patients,  then  he 
hands  me  the  books ;  I  am  attending  him  all  the  time 
like  a  white  shadow  ;  that  is  a  part  of  my  duty.  Then 
the  surgical  work  commences i  oh!  with  all  his  kind- 
ness, the  Doctor  is  firm  as  a  rock,  and  everything  has 
to  be  gone  through  with.  The  other  day  he  was  almost 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  21 

four  hours  getting  through  ;  he  is  not  always  so  long. 
Then  I  write  off  my  dinner-orders,  send  them,  give  out 
medicines ;  then  some  other  items ;  all  the  while  the 
surgeon  is  in  the  ward  I  must  be  in  attendance,  to 
assist  or  wait  upon  him.  Then  dinner ;  my  patients 
are  divided  into  two  classes  ;  those  who  are  well  enough 
to  dine  in  the  dining-room  on  house-rations,  and  those 
who  dine  in  the  ward  on  different  diets  ;  to  the  latter 
I  give  out  dinner  according  to  the  Doctor's  orders  in 
the  diet  list.  After  dinner,  I  have  some  housekeeping 
matters  to  see  to ;  yesterday,  counting  out  the  linen 
for  forty-five  men.  This  time  is  supposed  to  be  passed 
by  me  in  recreation.  This  afternoon  I  had  a  house- 
cleaning  of  the  deepest  dye.  I  found  a  whiskey  bottle 
under  one  bed,  apple  pie  on  a  table,  both  delinquencies ; 
if  the  whiskey  bottle  could  have  been  traced  home,  the 
owner  would  probably  have  been  put  under  arrest. 
The  Doctor  was  desirous  to  have  the  beds  arranged  in 
a  particular  manner,  and  I  worked  till  I  could  hardly 
stand  to  get  it  done;  after  it  was  all  finished,  he 
walked  in  ;  he  took  a  look  down  the  long  ward,  and 
then  turned  to  me  with  a  most  approving  expression. 
I  have  work  to  do  constantly  in  this  way.  I  make  out 
my  supper-lists  in  the  afternoon  and  send  them  before 
five.  I  send  my  men  for  supper,  then  give  it  out  as  I 
do  the  other  meals  ;  after  supper,  see  that  the  patients 
are  attended  to  properly;  then  take  the  surgical 
baskets,  put  them  in  order,  roll  up  bandages  and  make 
new.  My  bandage  roller  is  in  constant  use  ;  I  arrange 
everything  exactly  in  its  place ;  my  surgeon  seems  to 


22  MEMOIR   OF 

rely  upon  my  order  and  readiness  a  good  deal.  The 
other  night  I  was  awoke  about  one  or  two  in  the  morn- 
ing, to  supply  him  with  powders  he  wanted  for  another 
•ward  ;  I  had  them  right  at  hand.  In  the  evening  I 
have  to  see  that  the  dressings  the  Doctor  ordered  have 
been  properly  performed  or  do  them  myself,  and  see 
after  the  many  wants  of  my  children ;  so  my  men 
seem  to  me.  The  Doctor  generally  makes  me  a  fare- 
well visit  about  nine  o'clock.  The  officer  of  the  day 
also  looks  in  upon  me,  and  I  report  to  him  about 
anything  he  wishes  to  know.  All  this  routine  takes 
in  a  quantity  of  minor  matters.  I  am  writing  in  the 
evening  because  I  cannot  find  time  in  the  day ;  per- 
haps I  shall  to-morrow.  I  must  go  to.  bed  now. 

Thursday  afternoon.  I  hope  you  will  make  allow- 
ance for  the  hurried  way  in  which  my  letters  are  written, 
and  not  be  astonished  if  the  writing  and  spelling  are  a 
little  peculiar;  my  head  is  almost  beside  itself  with  all 
that  it  has  to  think  of.  I  have  given  you  but  a  dis- 
tant idea  of  all  that  I  have  to  look  after,  ivalk  after  and 
bear  the  responsibility  of.  This  morning  I  had  to  as- 
sist the  surgeon  in  some  very  painful  duties ;  one  man 
fairly  cried  ;  I  felt  when  the  Doctor  left  as  if  my  nerves 
were  all  on  edge.  Yesterday  I  had  two  cases  sent  to 
me  from  the  operating  room  ;  one  came  first ;  I  had  him 
all  washed,  the  head  properly  bandaged  and  the  man 
in  bed,  and  the  bed  ready  for  the  other  one,  the  band- 
ages and  bowl  and  sponges  atso,  before  Number  Two 
appeared  with  the  Doctor.  The  Doctor  cast  a  very 
approving  look  round,  and  I  went  right  to  work  to  at- 


EMILY   ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  23 

tend  to  the  new  one.  The  Doctor  trusted  me  enough 
to  send  me  Number  One  without  coming  himself, though 
it  was  the  first  time  I  have  had  an  operation  of  any 
extent  here.  It  came  very  natural.  The  Doctor  was 
fairly  benignant  when  he  left.  I  feel  all  the  time  afraid 
of  failure,  of  not  coming  up  to  the  mark.  My  chamber, 
in  one  corner,  is  ten  feet  by  seven  and  one-half;  I  have 
it  all  to  myself  at  night;  in  the  day  time  it  is  an  actual 
office  for  surgeons,  patients  and  everybody  else  to 
come  to ;  the  nurse's  room  in  a  ward  generally  is.  I 
have  a  narrow  iron  bedstead,  a  small  table,  a  looking- 
glass,  my  upright  tub, — which  same  is  an  immense  com- 
fort, —  my  trunk  and  valise,  two  pails  of  water,  a  chair 
and  a  wash  bowl ;  behold  my  furniture.  The  build- 
ing is  not  yet  finished,  and  it  is  nothing  but  rough 
boards,  to  be  plastered  some  time  in  the  dim  future.  I 
have  pine  plank  shelves  in  my  room,  and  on  them  are 
kept  the  medicines,  bowl  of  surgeon's  sponges,  stores 
of  different  kinds,  all  belonging  to  the  nurse's  depart- 
ment. 

One  of  my  orderlies  is  in  the  guard-house  to-day. 
My  ward  has,  I  believe,  the  best  surgeon  except  the 
head  of  all,  and  I  do  not  know  but  as  good  as  he.  He 
just  now  told  me,  with  a  very  beaming  face,  that  he 
expected  to  have  some  very  heavy  cases  in.  I  hope  he 
will  be  happy  ! 

Friday  afternoon.  I  have  a  great  many  wants  to 
reply  to  and  meet.  The  other  night,  as  I  thought  all 
was  done,  one  poor  fellow  had  neuralgia  in  his  arm, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  rub  it  for  a  long  time  before  he 


24  MEMOIR   OF 

was  relieved.  I  have  a  great  many  things  to  do  for 
the  welfare  of  the  patients  in  that  way.  One  poor 
fellow  cried  like  a  child  this  morning  under  the  sur- 
geon's hands,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  could 
comfort  him.  At  night  the  surgeon  goes  to  the  fort 
to  sleep,  and  I  am  left  with  the  guardianship  of  all  these 
men.  I  have  a  night  watcher,  but  he  is  not  a  nurse. 
I  felt  a  little  anxious  the  other  day,  or  rather  night, 
when  I  had  two  cases  just  from  operation,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  others. 

To-day  was  grand  inspection  day,  and  such  a  day ! 
In  the  first  place,  the  Doctors  were  coming  in  the 
middle  of  the  morning,  and  the  ward  had  to  be  in  a 
state  of  supernatural  order  by  that  time  ;  all  the  dress- 
ings done  and  patients  by  the  side  of  their  beds.  Oh, 
the  getting  ready  !  I  confided  my  state  of  mind  to  the 
surgeon  as  we  were  working  together,  and  he  agreed 
with  me ;  that  was  some  comfort.  At  the  proper  time 
the  door  opens  and  the  whole  surgical  and  medical  staff 
walk  inside,  and,  standing  at  the  head  of  the  ward,  the 
head  of  the  hospital,  Dr.  Bartholomew,  reads  the  roll- 
call,  the  men  reply  ;  inspection  of  the  ward  follows  ;  I 
had  nothing  to  do  but  receive  a  very  profound  bow  and 
reply  to  that  same.  I  felt  perfectly  exhausted  by  the 
time  all  was  over,  the  preparations  had  been  so  fatigu- 
ing. This  lovely  day  comes  once  a  week ;  this  is 
general  inspection,  particular  inspection  is  at  eleven 
o'clock,  Sundays !  It  is  a  queer  place. 

I  made  a  funny  mistake  the  other  day.  The  men 
are  very  fond  of  showing  me  the  pictures  of  their  wives 


EMILY   ELIZABETH    PAESONS.  25 

and  babies ;  I  was  passing  a  bed  lately  and  saw  among 
the  articles  my  patient  was  arranging,  an  ambrotype 
case.  I  took  it  up  supposing  it  might  be  his  wife ; 
it  was  a  very  pretty  girl's  picture  ;  I  said,  "  This  is  your 
wife,  is  it  not  ?  "  the  poor  fellow  turned  redder  than  red 
and  said  no,  it  was  not  his  wife  !  but  looking  so 
sheepishly  happy  all  the  while  it  was  easy  to  tell  what 
she  was.  I  put  it  down  and  turned  the  subject  imme- 
diately ;  he  seemed  to  consider  me  rather  in  the  light 
of  a  confidential  friend  afterwards. 

There  are  many  things  that  are  trying  in  this  way 
of  life,  but  they  are  inseparable  from  it  and  must  be 
accepted  as  such.  I  did  not  expect  it  would  be  couleur 
de  rose  when  I  came,  and  one  cannot  expect  in  making 
the  voyage  of  life  always  to  meet  with  fair  weather. 
Our  Master  did  not,  and  what  right  have  we  to  ?  It  is  a 
great  deal  to  be  thankful  for  when  he  gives  us  some 
work  to  do  for  Him,  only  we  have  to  be  very  careful 
how  we  do  it,  careful  to  do  His  will  first  of  all.  I  have 
just  been  reading  the  words  in  Isaiah,  "  the  shadow  of 
a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land,"  and  the  thought  that  we 
can  always  rest  under  the  shadow  of  that  rock  is  a 
great  comfort.  One  of  my  men  has  been  dangerously 
ill ;  when  he  was  better,  but  could  not  sit  up,  I  read  to 
him  in  the  Psalms  one  evening ;  he  seemed  very  much 
pleased,  and  the  next  morning  his  hand  was  out  to  meet 
mine  before  I  could  get  to  it.  He  will  get  well  now, 
but  it  was  a  narrow  escape  with  him.  I  have  a  great 
variety  in  my  ward ;  one  belligerent  individual  is  under 
arrest,  and  I  have  to  see  that  he  does  not  go  out  of 


26  MEMOIR   OF 

doors ;  a  slight  addition  to  the  rest  of  my  cares.  He 
did  go  to-day  and  I  was  obliged  to  report  him. 

Please  write  to  me  and  mention  every  detail,  and 
what  you  are  going  to  do,  so  that  I  can  imagine  you 
doing  it  when  the  time  comes ;  it  takes  away  from  the 
lonely  feeling.  I  do  not  want  ideas,  my  head  has  so 
many  new  ones  it  is  nearly  beside  itself.  I  want  facts, 
—  I  wish  you  would  give  my  love  to  those  of  my  friends 
who  are  kind  enough  to  remember  me.  I  wish  some 
of  them  would  write.  Be  sure  and  tell  me  how  mother 
looks,  I  never  knew  before  how  much  I  loved  her. 

You  must  excuse  the  style  of  my  letters,  for  they  are 
written  among  many  interruptions.  It  is  nearly  ten 
now.  I  have  just  been  through  my  ward  and  visited 
every  bed.  As  I  arranged  one  boy  whom  I  stood  by 
in  his  pain  yesterday  morning,  he  looked  up  at  me 
with  such  a  loving  look,  it  made  me  think  of  his  far 
off  mother.  They  feel  what  is  done  for  them  very 
much,  sometimes.  I  must  go  to  bed  now  and  get  rest 
for  the  morning  work.  My  feet  ache,  but  I  expect 
they  will  get  used  to  it. 


LETTER   II. 

FORT  SCIIUYLER  HOSPITAL, 
November  1. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  It  is  evening ;  I  am  obliged  to 
write  now,  for  I  have  no  time  in  the  day,  as  a  general 
thing,  nor  much  at  night.  To-day  my  ward  was  washed 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  27 

from  one  end  to  the  other ;  I  superintend  and  assist 
in  various  ways ;  just  think  of  moving  fifty-one  beds 
out  and  in  again  !  After  supper  I  had  to  give  out 
clean  under-clothing  to  all  the  patients.  I  wonder 
what  a  mother,  who  thinks  it  is  something  to  look  after 
two  or  three,  would  say  to  forty-four ;  I  said  so  to  one 
of  my  patients  ;  the  idea,  differently  expressed,  amused 
him.  I  am  told  that  the  ward  will  be  filled  to  its  ut- 
most capacity  presently.  There  are  fifty-one  beds  in 
it  now,  and  there  can  be  more,  though  I  hope  not ; 
fifty-one  wounded  men  are  about  enough  for  one  ward. 
Several  of  the  forty-four  now  here  are  convalescent, 
but  some  suffer  very  much.  I  go  round  at  night  see- 
ing to  them,  covering  them  up,  and  the  other  night 
I  came  to  one  poor  boy,  badly  wounded  and  sick ;  as 
I  laid  the  clothes  over  him  he  half  opened  his  eyes  to 
see  who  it  was,  and  when  he  saw  me,  gave  such  a 
pleasant  smile  it  quite  went  to  my  heart ;  he  laid  his 
head  down  again  as  if  entirely  satisfied.  He  does  not 
get  well  very  fast,  and  I  am  afraid  he  is  going  to  have 
more  trouble.  His  wound  is  a  musket-shot  in  the 
shoulder,  and  the  Doctor  is  obliged  to  take  out  pieces 
of  diseased  bone  or  splinters  of  bone  :  I  dread  the 
sight  of  the  instruments;  he  is  a  mere  boy.  They 
seem  so  much  pleased  when  they  wake  and  find  me 
bending  over  them,  —  it  is  not  much  I  can  do,  but  that 
is  something.  These  wounds  are  trying  to  the  poor 
fellows.  I  have  all  sorts  of  characters,  and  several 
nations  in  my  ward.  The  Doctor  came  to  my  door 
just  now  to  make  his  night's  tour  among  the  patients ; 


28  MEMOIR   OF 

I  attend  him,  candle  in  hand.  My  ward  is  now  arranged 
for  the  night,  and  I  am  going  to  make  my  last  round. 

Sunday  Morning.  My  ward  is  all  in  order,  waiting 
for  the  inspectors  who  are  performing  operations  else- 
where. After  it  was  in  order  I  sat  down  and  read  a 
little  while ;  now  I  am  writing  for  a  few  minutes.  I 
do  not  want  anything  done  on  Sundays  that  can  be 
helped ;  that  is  the  reason  I  am  able  to  sit  down  a 
little  while. 

The  Doctor  spoke  hopefully  of  my  worst  case  this 
morning,  and  I  am  now  in  hopes  he  will  save  his  arm, 
but  he  suffers  a  great  deal ;  this  morning,  when  I  was 
washing  it  for  the  surgeon  to  apply  the  dressings,  he 
could  hardly  bear  the  sponge,  the  arm  was  so  sensitive  ; 
three  ball-shots  through  it.  He  is  very  patient  and 
good  ;  I  took  him  some  Cologne  the  other  day  and  it 
refreshed  him  very  much.  Mrs.  Sampson  Reed  and 
Mrs.  Worcester  asked  me  to  apply  to  them  for  what  I 
needed ;  will  you  ask  them  if  they  would  like  to  send 
me  some  Cologne  water ;  when  the  men  are  faint  and 
sick  after  the  surgeon  has  left  them,  it  is  very  refresh- 
ing. I  have  sent  my  orderlies  for  dinner,  and  am 
expecting  it  every  minute. 

Afternoon.  Instead  of  dinner,  they  sent  me  two 
cases  from  the  operating  room ;  they  put  a  damper 
on  my  dinner.  The  poor  fellows  are  quiet  now,  con- 
sidering what  they  have  gone  through.  One  of  them 
was  suffering  extremely ;  a  fever-heat  had  come  on  in 
the  wounded  arm ;  I  put  a  cold  water  compress  on,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  he  felt  better,  and  then  fell  asleep ; 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  29 

BO  I  sat  by  him  to  keep  the  flies  off,  and  presently 
in  came  the  surgeon.  I  had  to  assist  him  in  dress- 
ing one  of  the  men,  then  he  left,  and  the  work  went 
on.  I  feel  very  much  afraid  of  failing  at  some  point, 
it  is  such  a  responsibility,  and,  as  one  of  the  ladies 
remarked  to  me,  we  were  never  "  out  at  service "  be- 
fore. I  have  two  charming  friends  here,  Miss  Spauld- 
ing  and  Miss  Mary  Hill.  I  enjoy  them  very  much;  they 
are  the  only  friends  I  have  here  with  whom  I  have  any 
intimacy  ;  I  am  so  busy  that  I  have  no  time  to  go  out 
to  see  any  one,  so  they  come  to  see  me,  when  they  can. 
I  have  plenty  of  fresh  air  from  windows  and  doors,  to 
say  nothing  of  cracks  which  are  to  be  boarded  in  by 
and  by.  My  dinner  consists  of  government  soup, 
bread,  and  perhaps  a  little  rice,  or  sometimes  there  are 
more  Isabella  grapes  than  my  patients  can  eat.  Break- 
fast and  supper,  bread  and  milk ;  my  breakfast  has  to 
be  taken  in  such  a  hurry  that  I  do  not  eat  more  than 
is  necessary.  I  take  supper  a  little  more  leisurely. 
You  have  hardly  a  conception  of  the  wants  of  a  ward 
full  of  patients.  And  then  the  ward  has  to  be  kept  in 
such  a  state  of  order,  —  the  beds  must  all  be  made  after 
one  particular  order  and  pattern  ;  then  they  must  all 
be  EXACTLY  in  a  line  or  my  surgeon  finds  it  out ;  he 
stands  at  one  end  of  the  ward  and  looks  down,  if  one 
bed  is  in  the  least  projecting  an  orderly  has  to  fly 
down  and  push  it  in.  Then  they  every  now  and  then 
find  some  new  way  of  making  the  beds  a  little  more 
symmetrical  than  the  previous ;  I  have  been  taught  my 
third  arrangement  to-day.  Imagine  arranging  tho 


30  MEMOIR   OF 

covers  of  forty-four  beds.  As  my  Doctor  is  a  man  of 
genius  he  may  think  of  another  way  before  the  week 
is  out.  Some  of  the  men  make  their  own  beds,  but  I 
have  to  arrange  them  afterwards,  also  examine  them 
in  search  of  contraband  articles  of  food  under  the 
pillows ;  I  found  a  quantity  of  cheese  under  one.  The 
Doctor  immediately  confiscated  it  in  great  indignation, 
it  not  being  good  for  sick  people.  Close  by  me  is  Miss 
Spaulding's  ward  ;  between  her  Doctor  and  mine  is  quite 
a  rivalry  as  to  which  ward  looks  the  best.  We  do  not 
care  an  atom,  and  so  we  have  a  good  deal  of  amusement 
over  it.  The  two  doctors  survey  each  other's  wards, 
and  then  each  declares  his  own  the  best  looking.  I 
have  not  had  time  to  see  my  friend's  yet,  but  am 
going  some  day ;  in  the  mean  time  she  comes  in  and 
reports  to  me  the  remarks  of  our  two  housekeepers, 
as  we  call  them. 

We  are  having  a  very  high  wind,  and  the  barn-like 
building  rocks  like  a  cradle,  or  rather  creaks  like  one. 
We  had  a  tempest  the  other  day  and  night ;  my  friends 
asked  me  the  next  day  if  I  was  not  afraid  the  building 
would  blow  over ;  I  told  them,  no,  I  did  not  think 
that  anything  would  be  allowed  to  happen  to  so  many 
helpless  people;  so  I  slept  in  peace,  feeling  that  they 
took  care  of  me  and  I  of  them,  under  Higher  Power. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  31 


LETTER  III. 

FOET  SCHUYLER  HOSPITAL, 

November  8. 

DEAR  MOTHER,. —  I  hoped  to  have  continued  my 
journal  this  week,  but  it  has  not  been  possible.  Early 
in  the  week  I  had  a  new  patient,  —  a  young  man  who 
had  reamputation  of  the  arm  performed  on  Sunday. 
He  was  brought  into  my  ward  as  it  was  more  comfort- 
able than  the  one  he  was  in ;  he  was  so  ill  that  there  was 
little  chance  of  his  life ;  you  may  imagine  the  charge 
he  was  to  me :  all  the  day  I  kept  in  the  ward  either 
directly  nursing  him  or  keeping  my  eye  on  him  while 
about  my  work ;  in  the  evening  sat  by  his  side  till  re- 
lieved by  the  watcher  who  took  charge  of  him  during 
the  night ;  so  all  my  writing  time  was  taken. 

I  am  the  only  nurse  in  the  ward,  so  that  when  the 
surgeon  was  not  in,  the  case  fell  on  me.  I  allowed  no 
one  else  to  touch  his  bed  or  his  food ;  the  surgeon 
sometimes  pours  out  his  porter,  but  it  is  handed  me  to 
give.  He  is  doing  well  now,  though  great  care  is  neces- 
sary ;  I  am  writing  near  his  bed.  They  will  not  let 
me  work  day  and  night  both,  so  at  ten  I  am  ordered 
off  to  bed.  I  have  been  fighting  the  weather  lately. 
The  snow  came  in  at  the  open  slats  on  the  roof,  and  we 
were  nearly  frozen,  and  wet  into  the  bargain.  I  grew 
desperate,  and  when  the  ward-master  came  in,  insisted 
upon  something  being  done.  I  got  possession  of  a  ladder, 
one  of  my  men  mounted  up,  tied  slats  together,  and 


32  MEMOIR  OF 

wmmd  up  by  nailing  one  of  my  sheets,  torn  in  strips, 
over  crevices  that  could  be  stopped  in  no  other  way ; 
we  finally  got  ahead  of  the  deluge,  and  I  commenced 
drying  bed  clothes  by  instalments  round  the  stoves ; 
by  half-past-nine,  evening,  they  were  mostly  dry,  and 
the  floor  of  the  ward  drying  also.  I  went  about  all  day 
in  my  water-proof  cloak,  hood  over  my  head  ;  I  wear 
my  india-rubber  shoes  all  the  time  to  help  keep  my 
poor  feet  warm.  We  are  not  warm,  for  there  are  so 
many  cracks  in  these  unfinished  buildings  that  a  regi- 
ment of  stoves  could  hardly  make  them  really  warm. 
I  only  wish  the  contractor  had  been  here  the  other  day  ; 
I  would  have  put  him  under  the  biggest  hole.  My 
health  is  good,  so  I  conclude  this  primitive  way  of  life 
suits  me ;  at  any  rate,  I  shall  stay  by  my  sick  men 
while  I  can.  If  it  is  right  for  me  to  be  here  I  shall 
have  strength  given  me.  My  little  spirit-lamp  is  a 
great  comfort  to  me ;  when  I  boil  my  milk  over  it, 
it  warms  me  a  good  deal :  I  also  heat  up  tepid  bowls 
of  government  soup.  If  you  have  another  box  to 
come  to  me,  please  send  me  some  more  alcohol,  and, 
also,  may  I  have  your  white  aprons,  unless  you  would 
prefer  making  me  some,  —  I  have  not  enough  to  keep 
clean.  The  box  arrived  to-day ;  I  wanted  to  embrace 
it.  I  fell  into  a  rapture  over  the  bandages,  —  they 
are  beauties.  Somebody  sent  me  some  Scripture  carda 
and  pictures  ;  the  men  were  very  much  pleased  with 
them ;  I  shall  give  them  the  books  to-morrow.  My 
candlesticks  are  loves,  I  have  one  on  the  table  now. 
We  want  bandages  more  than  anything  except  old 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PAKSONS.  33 

linen  and  cotton,  —  we  cannot  have  too  much  of  that ; 
squares  of  linen  or  old  damask,  hemmed  for  pocket-hand- 
kerchiefs, are  very  acceptable ;  the  soldiers  are  very  glad 
of  a  clean  handkerchief  at  hand.  I  hoped  to  have 
written  to-morrow,  but  I  am  to  have  three  operation 
cases  to  attend  to.  The  poor  fellows  dread  it ;  I  have 
been  trying  to  give  them  comfort ;  two  are  rather  bad 
cases.  To-moiTow  is  inspection  day  also,  as  my  sur- 
geon reminded  me  to-night ;  he  says  he  is  coming  at 
eight  o'clock. 

I  am  within  two  yards  of  a  stove  and  am  cold ;  one 
of  the  surgeons  agreed  with  me  to-day  that  we  would 
never,  never  go  to  the  North  Pole.  I  did  so  enjoy 
your  letter  to-night ;  if  you  knew  the  pleasure  it  gave 
you  would  write  often  and  tell  me  what  you  are  going  to 
do,  so  that  then  I  may  imagine  you.  I  was  assisting 
the  surgeon  when  your  letter  came  ;  I  was  so  glad  when 
I  was  able  to  sit  down  and  read  it.  Sarah  came  to 
see  me  this  week  and  brought  me  some  flannel  shirts 
for  my  men.  I  was  very  thankful  for  them  ;  I  went 
round  that  cold  stormy  day  putting  them  on  my  men : 
I  have  to  help  the  poor  lame  fellows  to  dress. 

I  hope  these  buildings  will  be  finished  up  soon.  I 
have  sent  all  my  men  to  bed  and  am  waiting  the  visit 
of  the  surgeon,  and  then  to  bed,  I  hope. 

Tuesday.  I  am  now  trying  to  finish  my  letter.  We 
did  not  have  operations  on  Sunday  on  account  of  the 
chilly  rain,  some  of  which  penetrated  through  ;  thanks 
to  my  energetic  efforts  on  Saturday,  not  much.  To- 
day is  lovely  —  quite  mild,  and  the  patients  able  to  go 

3 


34  MEMOIR   OF 

out  in  the  sunshine  and  smoke  their  darling,  horrid 
pipes. 

This  morning  we  were  ordered  to  prepare  for  an 
inspection  by  the  surgeon-general  of  the  State.  After 
being  made  nearly  frantic  by  the  efforts  to  be  in 
wonderful  order  he  never  came  !  My  very  sick  patient 
is  a  little  better,  I  have  just  been  washing  his  face  and 
one  poor  hand.  I  asked  him  when  I  had  done,  if  he 
felt  any  better,  "  Oh  yes,"  he  replied,  with  such  a  grate- 
ful look.  I  take  the  whole  care  of  him,  except  dress- 
ing the  wound ;  I  wait  upon  the  surgeon,  and  assist, 
if  necessary.  I  sit  by  him  all  the  evening;  he  was  vei'y 
restless  last  evening ;  I  stroked  his  hand  and  his  hair, 
and  quieted  him  at  intervals,  but  he  did  not  get  much 
quieter  till  the  Doctor  came  and  gave  him  morphine. 
He  is  obliged  to  take  morphine  every  night. 

I  love  my  ward  better  and  better ;  and  if  some 
things  are  rough  and  trying,  why  that  is  a  reason  for 
staying  and  trying  to  make  them  better,  not  for  run* 
ning  away.  It  would  be  poor  soldiering  to  run  when 
the  enemy  appeared. 

I  lose  several  of  my  patients  this  week;  three  go 
back  to  the  regiments ;  six  others  go  home,  too  much 
disabled  to  fight  any  more.  I  hope  my  ward  will  not 
be  filled  up  till  all  the  carpenter-work  is  done,  the 
noise  is  so  trying  to  patients.  The  mos't  useful  width  for 
bandages  is  one  and  three-fourths  inches,  two  and  a  half 
inches,  three  inches,  —  the  two  and  a  half  most  used  ; 
we  do  not  use  thread  lint,  but  a  good  deal  of  that 
scraped  with  a  knife  ;  squares  of  old  linen  for  handker- 


EMILY   ELIZABETH  PABSONS.  35 

chiefs  are  useful.  The  slippers  you  sent  are  very 
useful ;  they  are  on  the  feet  of  two  wearers  who  ad- 
mire them  very  much. 

Evening.  —  I  have  had  such  a  piece  of  work  this 
evening !  my  three  ward  stoves  taken  down  and  two 
much  better  ones  put  up  in  their  place  ;  consequently, 
a  new  arrangement  of  beds,  which  I  could  not  put  off 
till  morning ;  it  is  all  right  now,  and  the  Doctor  has 
just  been  in  and  expressed  his  admiration.  I  am 
finishing  my  letter,  and  then  must  go  to  bed,  as  my 
night-watch  has  orders  to  call  me  at  quarter  before  six  ; 
when  I  come  home,  I  am  going  to  sleep  for  a  week 
steady ;  I  have  perhaps  enough  sleep  now,  but  I  am 
obliged  to  improve  my  time  to  get  it.  The  bugle  has 
just  sounded,  and  I  am  going  the  round  of  my  beds. 
Good  night,  dear  mother. 


LETTER   IV. 

FORT   SCHTTTLER   HOSPITAL, 

November  25. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  hope  to  be  able  to  write  a  few 
lines  to  you  to-night.  I  opened  the  box  yesterday, —  it 
was  lovely  ;  my^rderlies  opened  it  for  me ;  to  pay  them 
I  gave  each  a  pair  of  brilliant  slippers.  They  sailed 
down  the  ward,  and  in  about  a  minute  I  heard  patter, 
patter,  and  my  door  was  surrounded  by  applicants  to 
know  if  I  had  any  slippers  to  spare  1  Very  soon  the 


36  MEMOIR   OF 

slippers  had  gone.  I  want  you  to  tell  the  ladies  that 
they  must  make  their  shoes  smaller;  the  men  have  small 
feet.  If  the  ladies  are  inclined  to  make  any  more,  I 
shall  be  very  thankful  for  them.  I  told  you  of  my 
friend,  Miss  Spaulding  ;  our  doctors  fraternize  as  we  do, 
so  in  the  afternoon  in  comes  her  Doctor.  I  show  him 
my  bandages,  he  ejaculates,  "  Splendid  !  "  I  share  them 
with  him,  giving  him  a  large  box ;  also  some  cologne. 
Please  thank  Mrs.  Reed  for  the  cologne  and  bay-water. 
All  the  other  articles  were  lovely  in  my  eyes,  even  the 
corkscrew.  I  kissed  your  dear  markings  on  my  sheets. 
I  am  so  glad  you  marked  them.  You  speak  of  past- 
ing up  cracks,  —  that  would  involve  lining  the  whole 
building.  It  is  composed  of  one  layer  of  planking,  not 
perfectly  joined  anywhere,  and  the  ventilators  in  the 
roof  so  imperfect  that  we  were  deluged  and  snowed  on  ; 
the  water  literally  ran  in  the  wards.  Last  week,  I  think 
on  Friday  night,  I  was  obliged  to  get  up  in  the  night, 
put  on  my  wrapper  and  call  my  night-watch  to  help 
move  my  bed  round  because  I  was  being  rained  on,  —  I 
being  really  sick  with  an  influenza  at  the  time  ;  and  in 
the  morning  I  had  to  jump  up  because  it  was  raining 
where  I  had  moved  to,  and  I  so  ill  I  could  hardly  get 
up  at  all.  You  have  no  conception  what  I  have  been 
putting  up  with  here ;  but  my  health  has  been  quite, 
indeed,  very  good  till  this  cold  came:  I  am  getting 
well  fast,  and  we  move  in  a  day  or  two  into  a  nicely 
finished  ward,  or  I  would  not  have  told  you  of  the  state 
of  things  ;  Clytie  (her  dog)  would  not  have  gone  to  bed 
in  such  a  place.  I  trust  our  new  place  will  be  water- 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  37 

tight ;  if  it  is  not,  I  shall  set  up  a  tub,  like  the  philos- 
opher of  old.  If  I  had  known  what  I  was  to  meet,  I 
should  not  have  felt  equal  to  the  encounter.  I  am 
glad  I  have  done  it,  for  I  know  now  what  I  can  live 
through.  Some  of  the  ladies  expressed  it :  "Any  one  who 
has  been  at  Fort  Schuyler  Hospital  can  bear  anything." 
Now,  as  far  as  weather  is  concerned,  I  think  we  shall 
do  well. 

The  responsibility  of  my  ward  is  very  heavy ;  my 
surgeon  is  a  very  good  surgeon  and  physician,  who  has 
temporarily  left  his  practice,  like  many  others,  in  order 
to  see  and  attend  to  cases  which  only  'occur  in  time 
of  war,  and  are  very  interesting  to  the  faculty.  This 
ensures  to  the  soldiers  the  advantage  of  as  good  at- 
tendance, in  many  instances,  as  they  would  have  in 
the  city.  The  surgeon  of  this  ward  is  a  strict  discipli- 
narian, and  very  pleasant  also  ;  so  we  get  along  nicely. 
He  has  expressed  (to  others)  his  satisfaction  with  me 
very  decidedly.  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  go  on  doing 
my  work.  I  have  a  great  deal  of  control  over  my 
men  ;  they  are  a  very  good  set,  on  the  whole.  I  am 
sitting  on  the  foot  of  one  of  the  beds  near  the  stove, 
quietly  writing.  I  wonder  whether  I  have  been  led 
to  my  future  vocation  for  this  life  —  that  of  a  Sister  of 
Charity ;  if  it  is  so,  I  hope  I  shall  be  of  comfort  to  some- 
body and  many  bodies.  There  are  a  great  many  trying 
and  a  great  many  pleasant  things  about  it ;  there  is 
one  good  thing,  it  gives  one  plenty  to  do.  I  owe  letters 
to  many  friends.  Please  thank  them  all  very  heartily 
for  me  and  give  them  much  love,  and  say  I  would  have 


38  MEMOIR   OF 

written  iu  answer  if  I  had  time ;  letters  are  very  pre- 
cious here. 

I  think  my  new  ward  will  be  very  pleasant  as  far  as 
warmth  is  concerned.  It  will  be  neater-looking  than 
this.  I  am  very  thankful  for  the  candles  you  sent  me, 
without  them  I  should  not  know  what  to  do.  Candles 
are  one  of  the  things  they  economize  upon  here,  and 
we  do  not  have  half  enough.  I  am  obliged  to  dress  by 
candle-light,  as  the  ward  is  not  ready  for  the  Doctor 
unless  I  am  to  the  fore  ;  my  night-watch  has  orders  to 
call  me  at  a  quarter  before  six.  It  would  be  very 
pleasant  to  see  the  sun  rise  over  the  water,  if  I  had 
time  to  look  out.  But  I  must  hurry  and  dress,  for  I 
have  to  start  a  good  many  wheels.  1  give  medicines 
three  times  a  day;  the  first  time  is  before  breakfast,  and 
that  is  early.  My  medicine  glasses  are  invaluable,  — in 
use  several  times  a  day ;  as  for  my  bandage-roller,  I  do 
not  know  what  I  should  do  without  it.  I  am  some 
times  obliged  to  alter  the  bandages  sent,  and  also  to 
make  a  number  of  the  different  widths  called  for  by 
different  cases.  I  wish,  if  the  ladies  are  not  tired  of 
the  subject,  they  would  make  me  some  more  of  the 
widths  I  wrote  for  in  my  letter  a  week  or  so  since. 
There  is  one  thing  we  are  in  great  want  of,  —  that  is, 
old  linen  or  cotton,  —  old  underclothes  for  instance,  —  I 
can  tear  off  all  the  parts  that  are  good  for  anything. 

Saturday  evening.  I  will  try  now  and  finish  my 
letter.  On  Thursday,  the  ladies  of  Westchester  gave  a 
Thanksgiving  dinner  to  all  the  patients,  —  six  hundred 
and  fifty  men  in  all.  There  is  a  large  building  nearly 


EMILY  ELIZABETH    PARSONS.  39 

finished,  for  the  use  of  the  officers  of  the  Hospital ;  the 
partitions  were  not  yet  up  on  the  ground  floor  and  they 
could  therefore  use  it  -as  a  great  dining-room.  My  new 
ward  is  Ward  3,  Section  C.  We  moved  yesterday.  Oh 
dear !  was  I  not  tired  when  I  went  to  bed,  all  in  order, 
floors  washed,  beds  made,  patients  attended  to.  The 
ward  is  neat  and  water-tight ;  rather  an  odd  recommen- 
dation in  a  house,  but  a  necessary  one  here.  This 
coming  week  we  expect  one  thousand  wounded ;  I  shall 
then  have  sixty  men  in  my  ward,  its  full  complement. 
I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  keep  on  doing  my  duty.  I 
had  no  idea  one  had  to  give  up  and  go  through  so 
much  to  become  a  Sister  of  Charity  ;  I  have  great  re- 
spect for  all  who  do  it  rightly. 


LETTER   V. 

FORT  SCHUYLER  HOSPITAL, 
December  7. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  This  letter  will  not  go  till  the 
middle  of  the  week.  I  have  the  ward  all  ready  for 
inspection,  —  Sunday  afternoon  being  the  day  for  that 
interesting  ceremony.  My  surgeon  told  me  this  morn- 
ing that  six  hundred  wounded  men  were  on  their  way 
here  from  Washington  and  the  steamer  was  due  to-day. 
He  also  said  that  this  ward  would  be  filled  up ;  they 
may  arrive  any  moment,  or  not  till  to-morrow.  I  want 
to  have  the  poor  men  in  bed  comfortably.  Just  think 
of  tossing  about  on  the  waves  in  a  crowded  steamer 


40  MEMOIR   OF 

such  a  day  as  this,  sick  and  wounded  too.  It  was  very 
cold  here  this  morning,  water  froze  in  my  room  and  I 
nearly  froze  too  ;  we  are  promised  small  stoves  in  our 
rooms,  some  time.  In  the  meantime  we  shiver. 

I  suppose  there  will  be  some  severe  cases  among  the 
new  arrivals,  and  I  shall  probably  have  some  of  the 
worst  in  my  ward  ;  as  the  surgeon  of  it  is  a  very  fine 
one  he  has  those  cases.  I  wish  you  would  thank  the 
ladies  for  the  articles  they  sent  me  ;  I  was  so  glad  to 
have  clean  pocket-handkerchiefs  for  the  men.  Please 
tell  the  ladies  if  they  could  only  look  in  upon  a  wai'd 
and  see  the  comfort  these  small  things  give  it  would 
encourage  them  in  all  their  work.  The  soldiers  were 
very  much  pleased  with  the  handkerchiefs  Mrs.  New- 
ell's  little  daughter  hemmed.  I  told  them  about  her 
doing  the  work  :  they  were  much  interested,  and  I  saw 
them  examining  the  stitches  with  great  interest.  My 
friends  are  very  kind  to  remember  me  in  my  absence 
so  well ;  such  kindly  thoughts  help  one  on  and  take 
away  a  little  of  the  lonely  feeling  that  will  come  at  times. 
It  is  an  odd  life,  • —  living  so  entirely  among  men. 
Only  once  in  a  while  when  we  nurses  have  time  we  see 
each  other  for  a  few  minutes.  At  first,  it  seemed  to 
me  that  I  must  wake  up  and  find  it  a  dream  ;  now,  it 
is  as  if  my  former  life  lay  away  back,  out  of  my  reach, 
and  this  was  my  real  life.  I  felt  afraid  lately  that  my 
physical  strength  would  not  hold  out.  I  was  so  ill  with 
influenza  that  I  could  hardly,  sit  up,  and  while  in  that 
condition  I  had  to  carry  on  the  affairs  of  a  surgical 
ward  ;  no  light  task  at  any  time.  I  am  not  quite  well 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  41 

yet,  and  when  I  found  myself  nearly  frozen  and  not 
well  this  morning  my  heart  misgave  me  as  to  the  pos- 
sibility of  my  bearing  up  under  it ;  but  I  felt  a  little 
better  presently,  and  then  came  the  news  of  these  new 
arrivals  to  be,  and  I  thought  I  would  stay  while  I  could, 
and  appeared  to  give  satisfaction  to  the  surgeon.  If  my 
health  does  fail  me  I  can  come  home  then.  I  think  I  shall 
be  helped  to  stay,  one  way  and  another ;  I  have  noticed 
one  thing  since  I  have  been  here  —  that  no  trial  has 
been  permitted  to  be  more  than  I  could  bear ;  it  has 
always  been  lightened  at  what  seemed  to  be  the  last 
moment,  or  else,  I  have  been  taken  care  of  in  some 
wholly  unexpected  way ;  so  I  remember  this  and  take 
courage,  and  try  to  go  on.  You  remember,  I  suppose, 
that  the  day  you  were  here  I  was  taking  care  of  a  man 
shot  in  some  kind  of  quarrel  with  his  Captain;  I  do  not 
know  the  circumstances,  but  the  man  is  one  of  those 
characters  you  read  of  among  the  lower  classes ;  I 
should  think  a  regular  rough.  As  he  gains  a  little 
strength  he  does  not  improve  on  acquaintance  very 
much,  though  he  may  have  some  good  things  that  one 
would  like.  I  had  to  reprove  him  for  swearing  to-day. 
I  told  him  never  to  use  such  a  word  again  while  in  the 
ward,  for  I  would  not  have  it.  I  suppose  I  shall  have 
all  sorts  of  characters  to  deal  with.  I  have  had  very 
nice  men  thus  far.  They,  for  the  most  part  begin  the 
day  by  reading  their  Bibles.  The  very  sick  man  I  was 
speaking  of  was  very  glad  to  have  me  read  the  Bible  to 
him.  He  asked  me  the  other  night  to  read  him  the 
fifteenth  chapter  of  Luke;  it  treats  of  the  return  of  the 


42  MEMOIR   OF 

prodigal  son ;  he  seemed  to  feel  it  a  good  deal ;  he  ap- 
pears grateful  for  what  I  have  done  for  him.  I  do  not 
know  whether  he  will  recover  or  not ;  he  has  the  con- 
stant thirst  that  accompanies  gun-shot  wounds,  and  we 
are  obliged  to  feed  him  with  milk  or  water  every  few 
minutes,  night  and  day.  I  do  not  sit  up  with  him 
during  the  night,  as  the  surgeon  seemed  to  think  I  had 
better  not,  and,  till  it  is  necessary  I  do  not  mean  to,  as 
my  day  work  is  enough  for  me.  Sixteen  hours  of  wake- 
ful responsibility,  and  a  good  deal  of  the  time,  if  not  all 
of  it,  doing  work,  is  enough  for  a  woman,  I  think.  It 
is  evening  now,  and  the  men  have  not  come.  Think  of 
them  tossing  about  another  night !  How  they  must 
be  suffering  !  My  men  are  quiet  around  the  ward,  and 
I  am  by  the  sick  man  writing  and  keeping  watch,  the 
light  is  dim.  I  have  thought  of  so  many  things  I 
wanted  to  say  to  you  and  had  no  time  for.  I  have  not 
heard  a  word  about  Thanksgiving,  —  I  believe  the  family 
have  forgotten  me.  If  they  do  not  write  me  a  long 
letter  soon  I  shall  be  furious.  Tell  me  all  sorts  of 
little  things.  I  dreamed  the  other  night  I  was  at 
home.  I  believe  I  was  unpacking  and  putting  my 
room  in  order.  I  should  not  wonder  if  it  was  many 
a  month  before  I  did  the  latter.  Is  it  cold  with  you  1 
I  want  to  know  all  about  it. 

My  daughter's  health  and  strength  soon  after 
failed  so  much  that  it  was  apparent  both  to  her- 
self and  to  the  surgeons  of  the  hospital  that  she 
must  leave  it  at  least  for  a  time.  She  did  so,  and 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PAESONS.  43 

visited  a  friend  in  the  city  of  New  York.  We 
wrote*to  her,  advising,  perhaps  urging,  her  to  give 
up  the  idea  of  being  a  nurse  in  a  military  hospital. 
She  replied  in  a  letter  from  which  I  make  the 
following  extracts. 

NEW  YORK,  January  4. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  Colonel  Frank  Howe  is  very  de- 
sirous I  should  be  at  work  among  the  wounded,  so  is 
Dr.  Harris,  the  inspector  of  hospitals  here,  and  I 
believe  in  some  other  places.  These  two  gentlemen 
have  shown  themselves  very  kind  and  friendly  towards 
me.  They  expressed  very  earnestly,  both  to  me  and 
to  others,  their  desire  to  put  me  in  what  they  con- 
sider a  suitable  field  of  action,  or,  as  they  express 
it,  where  I  shall  be  of  most  use.  They  really 
seem  to  consider  me  of  some  value;  they  are  both 
trying  together,  and  I  leave  the  matter  in  their  hands, 
as  they  are  two  men  who  can  be  trusted,  with  regard 
to  their  integrity,  honor  and  a  desire  to  serve  the 
soldiers  in  the  best  and  wisest  mauner ;  and  they  are 
very  considerate  also  of  me,  —  so  you  have  reason  to 
be  satisfied.  I  have  good,  judicious  friends  around  me 
on  all  sides.  They  can  do  what  only  officials  can  do 
and  they  spare  me  contact  with  red  tape,  for  which  I 
desire  to  be  thankful. 

My  life  at  Fort  Schuyler  suited  me  in  many  respects, 
and  I  hope  to  lead  sxibstantially  the  same  life  else- 
where. To  have  a  ward  full  of  sick  men  under  my 
care  is  all  I  ask ;  I  should  like  to  live  so  all  the  rest 


44  MEMOIR  OF 

of  my  life.  Do  not  you  be  anxious  about  me,  but 
wait  quietly  and  patiently. 

I  am  going  to  send  you  the  report  of  Colonel  Howe's 
establishment.  He  gave  me  a  copy  of  it  the  other  day 
and  I  am  sure  it  will  interest  you.  He  took  me  all 
over  his  establishment,  telling  me  how  he  lived  there 
and  about  his  work;  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  him  ; 
the  men  seemed  to  love  him  so,  it  is  beautiful  to  see 
him  among  them.  I  wish  you  to  show  the  reports  I 
send  to  the  ladies,  as  I  think  they  will  be  interested 
in  them ;  they  are  the  accounts  of  most  admirable 
institutions.  In  my  old  ward  most  of  ray  men  began 
the  day  with  their  Bibles,  and  these  Bibles  had  been 
almost  all  of  them  given  to  them.  The  good  that  is 
being  done  now  is  perfectly  beautiful. 

I  have  done  my  work,  and  I  think  I  have  done  it 
pretty  well  too.  It  is  the  opinion  of  most  of  those 
who  are  now  over  these  things  that  the  ladies  who  do 
them  voluntarily  do  them  better  than  hired  nurses, 
and  they  like  to  secure  our  services.  If  I  had  not  suc- 
ceeded pretty  well  at  Fort  Schuyler,  Dr.  Bartholomew 
would  never  have  said,  "  that  he  would  do  almost  any- 
thing rather  than  have  Miss  Parsons  go."  This  speech 
is  not  for  everybody,  for  it  would  seem  egotistical,  but 
I  want  you  should  know  it.  I  expect  to  work  for  the 
soldiers  some  way  or  other,  soon,  I  hope.  Do  not  talk 
about  my  plans,  but  keep  quiet  and  remember  one 
thing ;  I  am  in  the  army  just  as  Chauncy  is,  and  I  must 
be  held  to  work  just  as  he  is  ;  you  would  never  think  of 
requesting  he  might  not  be  sent  on  picket  duty  because 


EMILY   ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  45 

it  was  hard  work.  This  same  hard  work  is  the  condi- 
tion on  which  I  have  either  mental  or  bodily  health.  A 
week  ago  the  surgeon  in  whose  ward  I  was  so  long  at 
Fort  Schuyler,  came  to  see  me  and  told  me  about  my 
old  patients.  One  of  them  in  whom  I  was  much  in- 
terested had  died,  leaving  a  family. 

She  remained  in  New  York  some  three  weeks, 
when  her  health  seemed  to  be  re-established. 
She  became  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Fremont,  who 
was  endeavoring  to  supply  the  personal  needs 
of  the  military  hospitals  in  St.  Louis,  and  who 
wrote  to  persons  then  in  charge  of  those  hospitals 
concerning  my  daughter.  The  reply  was  an  urgent 
request  that  Emily  should  go  there  at  once.  And 
I  then  received  from  my  daughter  a  letter  from 
which  I  make  the  following  extracts.  One  of 
them  refers  to  an  agency  connected  with  work  for 
the  army  which  she  could  do  at  home,  which 
agency  was  offered  to  me  for  her. 

NEW  YORK,  January  22. 

DEAR  FATHER,  —  I  await  the  answer  to  a  telegram 
which  I  sent  you,  asking  your  consent  to  my  going  to 
St.  Louis.  I  feel  bound  to  accept  the  position  offered 
me.  Mrs.  Fremont  and  the  people  in  St.  Louis  are 
holding  this  place  open  for  me.  The  extreme  dis- 
tance will  be  an  objection  to  you,  but  in  the  work  to 
which  I  have  pledged  myself  there  can  be  no  such 


46  MEMOIR   OF 

limit  as  time  or  space.  I  received  your  letter  relative 
to  the  agency  this  morning ;  it  is  out  of  the  question 
my  undertaking  such  a  work,  —  I  am  not  fitted  for  it. 
This  St.  Louis  opportunity  gives  me  what  I  can  do, 
and  wish  to  do,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  my  only  chance 
for  just  what  I  could  wish.  My  journey  on  will  be 
cared  for  in  every  way.  If  in  your  telegraphic  answer 
you  have  discouraged  my  going,  or  have  not  decided 
at  all,  I  wish  you  wrould  send  me  a  message  by  tele- 
graph at  once,  granting  consent.  St.  Louis  is  very 
healthy.  I  am  to  see  Mrs.  Fremont  this  morning 
by  appointment ;  she  expresses  herself  to  Captain 
Nichols  as  very  desirous  I  should  go.  She  says  there 
are  no  experienced,  trained  nurses  there,  and  there  is 
a  great  want  of  them. 

P.S.  — Tell  mother  not  to  be  anxious,  but  trustful. 

I  wrote,  giving  my  consent,  although  reluctantly ; 
for  her  experience  at  Fort  Schuyler  had  rather 
confirmed  my  fears  that  she  was  not  strong  enough 
for  the  work  she  desired  to  do.  The  condition  of 
affairs  at  St.  Louis  was  not  encouraging.  There 
had  been,  and  indeed  still  was,  severe  fighting  all 
down  the  Mississippi,  and  especially  at  Vicksburg 
and  Arkansas  Post,  whence  the  sick  and  wounded 
were  brought,  in  great  numbers,  to  be  cared  for  at 
St.  Louis.  Every  available  building  in  that  city 
was  converted  into  a  hospital,  and  supplied  with  a 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  47 

medical  staff  and  a  corps  of  nurses,  and  all  other 
necessary  arrangements  were  made  as  rapidly  as 
possible.  But  at  present  these  arrangements  were 
incomplete.  The  only  decided  advantage  which 
St.  Louis  had  over  Fort  Schuyler  was  in  the 
climate.  It  was  the  exposure  to  the  sea-winds 
which  proved  to  be  more  than  Emily  could  bear. 
But  while  the  failure  of  her  health  and  strength 
at  Fort  Schuyler  had  taught  her  that  there  were 
limits  to  her  capacity  of  endurance,  they  had  not 
changed  her  belief  that  in  work  of  this  kind  she 
could  best  discharge  her  duty ;  nor  had  they  weak- 
ened her  determination  to  find  such  work  some- 
where. There  was  much  in  the  position  at  St. 
Louis  which  commended  itself  to  her.  She  doubted 
with  good  reason,  whether  any  opportunity  would 
be  offered  to  her,  open  to  less  objection ;  and  on  the 
whole  decided  to  go  there.  Having  come  to  this 
conclusion,  she  yielded  to  what  seemed  to  be  the 
urgency  of  the  case,  and  left  New  York  before  she 
received  my  answer  to  her  letter.  The  next  letter 
her  mother  received  from  her  was  written  in  pencil, 
at  Crestline,  on  the  way  to  St.  Louis.  I  give  it 
only  to  show,  that  however  strong  were  her  desire 
and  purpose  to  continue  in  the  use  she  had  chosen 
and  entered  upon,  she  was  neither  wilful  nor  ob- 
stinate about  it. 


48  MEMOIE  OF 


LETTER   I. 

HOTEL  AT  CRESTLINE,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  If  you  think  at  any  time  that 
father  would  be  happier  to  have  me  at  home,  or  that 
it  is  best  for  me  to  be  there,  you  must  let  me  know, 
and  I  will  do  what  you  say.  I  hope  I  shall  be  guided 
to  do  what  is  right. 


LETTER  II. 

LAWSON  HOSPITAL,  ST.  Louis, 
January  10. 

DARLING  MOTHER,  —  I  have  received  your  last  let- 
ter, and  glad  enough  was  I  to  get  it ;  it  was  delicious ; 
you  would  write  twice  a  week,  if  you  knew  what  a 
longing  I  had  for  home  news.  I  want  to  know  every- 
thing abotit  everybody.  And  now  for  my  news ;  I  am 
going  to  Dixie  !  Mr.  Hasard  came  here  day  before 
yesterday  and  asked  me  if  I  would  go  down  the  river 
in  the  boat  that  was  going  to  bring  back  the  sick  and 
wounded  from  places  along  the  river,  — Vicksburg,  I  be- 
lieve, —  and  other  places.  He  wished  me  to  go  to  take 
charge  of  the  other  nurses,  and  of  the  liueu-room,  as 
it  is  called,  —  that  is,  the  place  where  supplies  of  differ- 
ent kinds  are  kept,  —  and  see  to  their  giving  out.  The 
principal  reason  he  said  he  wanted  me,  was  as  a 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  49 

trained  surgical  nurse.  On  coming  up  the  river  with 
the  wounded,  there  are  not  enough  surgeons  or  nurses 
to  take  care  of  all,  and  he  wanted  me,  as  I  could  dress 
wounds  and  nurse,  to  go  for  that  reason.  He  said  he 
thought  I  should  do  a  great  deal  of  good  in  that  way. 
He  had  evidently  made  up  his  mind  about  it.  I 
asked  him  what  the  surgeon  who  goes  in  charge  of 
the  boat  thought  of  it ;  he  said  that  he  wanted  me  to 
go.  This  surgeon  is  a  very  fine  one,  I  am  told.  It 
is  necessary  he  should  be,  as  the  post  is  a  most  re- 
sponsible one.  I  told  Mr.  Hasard  I  would  do  what 
he  and  Dr.  Alexander,  the  head  surgeon  here,  thought 
was  best ;  I  wished  to  do  what  was  right  in  the  matter. 
The  result  was,  that  Dr.  A.  said  that  he  would  let  me 
go  if  he  could  have  an  experienced  nurse  sent  him  in 
my  place ;  this  Mr.  Hasard  engaged  to  do.  Mr.  Has- 
ard is  President  of  the  Commission  in  which  I  am  en- 
listed, and  orders  all  such  things.  He  has  been  very 
kind  to  me ;  so,  I  probably  shall  start  in  the  "  City  of 
Alton,"  and  go  down  the  river.  I  did  not  think  it  right 
to  refuse  ;  and,  indeed,  I  could  not  very  well.  My  sur- 
geons both  say  they  are  sorry  to  have  me  go.  One  of 
them  told  me  to-night  that  my  men  told  him  I  had 
been  like  a  mother  to  them  ;  they  do  not  want  me  to 
leave  them ;  but  Mr.  Hasard  said  that  it  was  very  diffi- 
cult to  find  a  competent  person  to  do  what  he  wished 
me  to  do,  and  he  thought  I  should  be  of  great  use  as 
a  nurse.  I  told  him  I  was  almost  afraid  I  should  not 
be  able  to  do  as  well  as  he  wished.  He  replied  that, 
if  he  had  not  felt  that  I  was  the  very  person  for  the 


50  MEMOIR   OF 

work,  he  should  not  have  placed  me  in  such  a  position. 
What  will  happen  to  me  next  I  do  not  know  ;  but,  if 
they  suggest  my  going  to  California,  I  shall  respectfully 
decline. 

I  have  been  busy  in  my  ward  lately,  —  I  have  been 
watching  by  death-beds.  Some  of  my  men  have  died, 
they  were  so  badly  wounded.  One  of  the  last  things 
one  of  them  said  was  to  call  for  me ;  the  surgeon  had 
sent  me  to  do  something  for  himself  a  few  minutes 
before.  Two  of  them  talked  to  me  about  their  death 
before  they  went ;  they  were  very  quiet  and  peaceful. 
They  died  in  the  night  after  I  had  left  thorn  ;  I  cannot 
sit  up  all  night,  for  I  must  rest  for  the  next  day.  The 
night  I  sat  by  my  men  I  had  not  my  full  night's  rest. 
I  must  go  to  bed  now,  for  it  is  late.  I  wish  I  could 
write  all  night  to  you,  darling. 


LETTER   III. 

LAWSOX  HOSPITAL,  ST.  Louis, 
January  29. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  a  few  minutes  to  give  to 
you.  I  am  well  except  a  head  cold.  Yesterday  the 
wounded  arrived  from  the  battle  of  Arkansas  Post,  and 
some  other  fight.  Thirty -one  men  were  brought  into 
my  ward  on  stretchers,  one  "more  in  the  arms  of  the 
men  :  not  one  can  leave  his  bed.  I  was  in  the  ward  to 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  .     51 

receive  them.  They  seemed  so  glad  to  see  me.  As  I 
was  giviiig  one  a  glass  of  water,  another  bent  over  and 
said,  "  It  is  real  cheery  now,  to  have  a  woman  come 
round  one,  it  seems  like  home."  The  hard  hands 
clasped  mine  so  gratefully.  One  poor  fellow  cannot 
feed  himself;  as  I  was  giving  him  his  supper  he 
stopped  to  say,  "  God  bless  you ! "  He  is  so  good  and 
patient.  As  I  went  round  the  first  day  they  turned  to 
look  at  me  as  if  they  were  longing  to  see  a  woman's 
face.  There  is  one  man  who  never  catches  my  eye 
without  a  smile  ready  for  me  ;  he  has  lost  one  hand. 
We  expect  more  men. 

Mr.  Hasard  sent  me  a  note  yesterday,  I  opened  it ; 
it  was  my  commission  as  nurse  in  the  Western  Sanitary 
Commission  on  board  the  steamship  "  City  of  Alton." 
I  felt  fairly  caught.  The  head  surgeon  here  could  not 
quite  understand  my  coming  out  here  (I  don't  myself). 
He  told  Dr.  Eliot,  "These  Yankees  did  astonish  him 
every  day  ";  he  contemplated  me  with  a  sort  of  mild 
surprise. 

Oh,  the  water  here !  you  cannot  see  through  a 
tumbler  of  it ;  the  Father  of  Waters  is  muddy  in  pro- 
portion to  his  celebrity. 

Catch  me  thinking  there  is  any  place  like  home ! 
I  must  go  and  look  after  my  men  now,  so  good-night. 


02  MEMOIE  OF 


LETTER  IV. 

LAWSON  HOSPITAL,  ST.  Louis, 
February  1,  1863. 

I  told  some  of  my  men  to-night,  when  I  was  giving 
them  their  supper,  that  I  had  more  children  than  the 
old  woman  in  the  shoe,  and  they  were  diverted  at  the 
idea.  My  life  here  is  unlike  anything  I  ever  thought 
of.  The  head  surgeon  keeps  asking  me  how  I  like  it. 

I  told  him  I  was  getting  used  to  it My  men 

are  so  pleasant,  and  they  seem  to  like  to  have  me 
among  them  so  much.  This  evening  one  poor  fellow 
was  taken  quite  sick  •  I  did  not  happen  to  be  in  the 
ward  at  the  time  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  was  relieved  he 
sent  for  me  to  tell  me  all  about  it.  He  said,  it  was 
good  to  have  a  woman  about  the  ward,  it  made  one 
think  of  home.  He  lay  there  clasping  my  hand  tight, 
while  he  talked  about  home.  Though  I  could  give  him 
no  bodily  comfort,  he  seemed  to  feel  better  for  seeing 
me.  I  went  to  all  the  beds  to  see  after  them,  —  it 
seems  hardly  possible  that  a  week  ago  I  did  not  know 
one  of  them.  I  am  so  tii-ed  I  must  go  to  bed.  I 
am  done  up  and  sleepy,  and  must  be  up  in  time  to 
see  that  my  men  have  breakfast  at  seven.  If  I  ever 
come  back  home,  I  shall  sleep  for  a  week. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  53 

LETTER  V. 

MISSISSIPPI  RIVER,  February  13,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  am  going  to  keep  a  sort  of  a 
journal  for  you.  I  was  in  the  hospital  yesterday,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  in  walked  Mr.  Hasard  to  take  me 
to  the  boat.  I  got  into  the  carriage,  and  found  the 
back  seat  strewn  with  articles  for  my  comfort ;  a  pretty 
scarf  to  tie  over  my  head ;  hospital  manuals  for  my 
edification ;  a  bottle  of  choice  brandy,  in  case  of  need 
among  those  on  board,  &c.  He  took  me  on  board 
and  left  me.  Such  a  scene  of  confusion  and  dirt,  and 
soldiers !  The  ship  is  built  up  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  to 
afford  accommodation  for  the  sick.  We  were  obliged 
to  start  while  all  was  in  confusion,  in  order  to  reach 
the  scene  of  action  as  soon  as  possible.  If  there  should 
be  an  engagement  at  present  going  on  at  Vicksburg, 
we  shall  stop  a  little  way  above  it. 

The  ship  is  getting  into  order.  I  have  been  in  the  lin- 
en and  supply  room  this  morning.  The  doctor  took 
me  there  after  breakfast ;  installed  me  in  such  a  scene 
of  confusion  !  gave  me  the  key  with  the  advice  not  to 
put  things  in  order  till  he  had  sent  up  a  quantity  more  ! 
Last  evening,  after  supper,  we  all  assembled  in  a  little 
cabin  in  the  stern  of  the  ship  :  there  were  eight  ladies. 
I  belong  to  the  ship ;  two  others  remain  to  nurse  on 
the  passage  up ;  the  rest  are  to  be  sent  on  other  boats. 
There  were  two  or  three  gentlemen  present  with  us. 
At  nine  one  of  them,  a  clergyman,  proposed  having 


54  MEMOIR   OF 

prayers  :  he  first  read  the  14th  of  John,  then  prayed 
that  we  might  be  helped  and  guarded  in  the  work 
which  lay  before  us,  and  have  the  Lord  with  us.  It 
was  very  solemn.  I  feel  now  as  if  I  had  really  entered 
into  the  inner  spirit  of  the  times,  —  the  feeling  which 
counts  danger  as  nothing  ,  but  works  straight  on  as 
our  Puritan  forefathers  worked  before  us.  I  do 
not  mean  that  /  am  anything  heroic,  but  I  am  un- 
derstanding what  it  is  to  be  in  the  army.  I  never 
before  was  among  people  who  took  it  so  seriously,  be- 
cause I  never  was  where  the  war  was  around  us,  nor 
ever  before  was  going  into  the  midst  of  it ;  and  this 
makes  us  realize  all  that  is  at  stake  and  what  we  are 
doing.  Self  has  to  be  put  down  more  and  more,  and 
the  work  before  us  must  take  complete  possession  of 
our  minds  :  this  is  not  easy,  but  necessary.  You  have 
no  idea  of  the  state  of  a  military  transport  ship  ;  and, 
when  filled  with  sick  and  wounded,  it  will  demand  all 
our  energies  to  meet  the  difficulties  in  our  way.  We 
expect  to  be  about  five  days  reaching  Vicksburg ;  we 
are  obliged  to  stop  at  the  military  posts  in  the  way 
and  inquire  into  the  state  of  the  river,  as  the  guerillas 
are  about.  They  attacked  Island  No.  10  again  lately. 
We  shall  pass  it.  How  little  I  thought,  when  reading 
the  accounts  of  the  battle  there,  that  I  should  ever 
sail  by  it ! 

I  write  disjointed  letters,  for  I  am  continually  in- 
terrupted, and  many  things  in  my  mind.  .  .  . 

Tuesday.  —  Our  last  orders  are  to  go  to  Vicksburg. 
We  are  now  at  Helena;  look  on  the  map  and  you 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  55 

will  see  it.  Imagine  living  in  the  midst  of  what  "the 
children  call  a  "  dirt  pie,"  and  you  will  have  an  idea  of 
the  condition  of  the  people  !  We  have  several  freed 
slaves  on  board,  freed  by  the  act  of  our  President. 
One  of  the  ladies  heard  them  talking  last  night.  One 
of  them  said,  "  The  Secesh  are  mighty  smart,  but  these 
folks  are  ketchin'  up  to  'em."  Another  came  in  with  a 
pair  of  creaking  boots.  "  Ah,  Jane,"  sung  out  one, 
"  your  boots  cry  out  of  freedom."  And  so  they  keep 
it  up.  They  are  under  my  direction,  and  a  funny  set 
they  are.  I  have  an  influenza,  and  the  doctor  ordered 
me  to  keep  quiet  to-day,  in  order  to  be  ready  for  work 
by  and  by.  So  I  am  trying  to  do  so. 

Sunday.  —  I  have  been  quite  sick  since  I  wrote.  The 
climate  brought  on  an  attack,  and  the  doctor  ordered 
me  to  my  bed.  I  am  now  getting  over  it,  and  much 
better ;  but  the  doctor  has  told  me  to  keep  still  for  the 
present,  and  one  of  the  otheV  ladies  has  gone  into  the 
linen-room  to  take  charge  of  the  supplies  there.  It  is 
very  cold  there,  and  there  can  be  no  fire  on  account  of 
the  risk.  I  shall  probably  confine  myself  to  nursing 
the  rest  of  the  time.  The  climate  here  is  very  trying 
at  first  :  I  am  getting  used  to  it.  We  are  in  full  sight 
of  Vicksburg,  and  have  been  watching  the  firing  be- 
tween the  enemy  and  one  of  our  gunboats.  Our  men 
are  cutting  a  canal  to  get  at  the  enemy  by  land,  and 
the  object  of  the  enemy  is  to  stop  the  proceeding ;  so 
they  keep  firing  shells  at  our  men,  who  are  obliged  to 
stop  work  and  run  under  cover ;  and  then,  when  the 
shell  has  exploded,  our  boat  fires  back  and  occupies  the 


56  MEMOIR  OF 

enemy  for  a  little  while,  so  that  our  men  get  some 
work  done.  It  is  a  curious  sight  to  see  a  little  cloud 
hover  in  the  air,  and  know  that  it  is  such  an  engine ; 
it  looks  very  pretty  if  you  can  forget  for  a  minute  what 
it  is.  We  look  over  at  Vicksburg  as  you  look  at  Bos- 
ton from  Brookline,  and  see  it  quite  as  well.  It  is 
built  on  a  hill  rising  up  from  the  water,  and  has  a  very 
pretty  effect.  We  can  see  the  breastworks  distinctly, 
—  long  lines  of  red  earth  with  cannon  shining  in  the 
sun.  The  Federal  army  are  encamped  around  us,  tents 
away  back  among  the  trees,  with  causeways  built  up 
to  travel  on.  The  mud  is  terrific ;  I  think  it  gi-ows. 
I  keep  looking  at  my  watch  and  wondering  what  you 
are  all  doing  :  first,  I  thought  of  you  at  church,  now 
you  are  getting  ready  for  dinner.  I  hope  you  are  all 
well  and  happy.  I  wonder  what  you  have  for  din- 
ner  

Sunday  iveek,  Cairo.  —  My  letter  was  interrupted 
by  the  arrival  of  the  sick  men.  They  were  all  sick, 
there  having  been  no  battle  yet.  We  took  on  board 
about  four  hundred,  many  very  sick  ones.  Between 
twenty  and  thirty  died  in  the  few  days  they  were  on 
board.  They  were  mostly  brought  on  board  on  stretch- 
ers. I  saw  one  poor  fellow  assisted  on  board  by  his 
comrade ;  he  helped  him  to  his  bed,  and  then  the  two 
rough  men  put  their  arms  round  each  other,  and  with 
the  tears  running  down  their  cheeks  kissed  a  good- 
by  as  tenderly  as  two  children.  They  neither  knew 
when  they  would  see  each  other  again.  The  sick  one 
told  me  afterwards,  the  other  had  been  a  real  good 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  57 

".  t 

friend  to  him.  There  was  another  on  board  very  ill 
with  typhoid  fever;  watching  over  him  was  a  fine- 
looking  man.  I  was  so  struck  by  their  feeling  for  each 
other  that  I  asked  if  they  were  old  friends.  They  re- 
plied that  they  had  been  comrades  for  several  years, 
—  they  were  old  soldiers.  You  never  saw  any  woman 
more  tender  of  another  than  the  nurse  was  of  his 
friend  !  it  was  perfectly  beautiful.  They  all  seemed  to 
feel  for  each  other  so  much  !  I  was  giving  wine  one 
day  to  a  dying  man ;  it  was  all  he  could  take,  and  I 
carried  it  to  him  every  now  and  then  as  he  needed  it. 
I  thought  once  I  was  giving  him  more  than  he  wanted, 
and  asked  him  if  he  wanted  it  all ;  he  looked  up : 
"  Do  you  want  to  give  part  to  another  ? "  all  ready  to 
give  up  his  last  if  another  needed  it.  I  told  him  why 
I  asked.  I  suppose  he  has  gone  home  by  this  time. 
They  seemed  willing  to  go.  I  went  to  one  man  to  see 
what  I  could  do  for  him ;  he  was  dying,  and  seemed  in 
distress,  repeating  "  The  Lord  have  mercy  on  me  ! " 
I  leaned  over  him  and  repeated  the  Psalm,  beginning, 
"  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,"  —  I  think  it  is  the  23rd  : 
one  of  the  verses  is,  "  Though  I  walk  through  the  val- 
ley of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for 
Thou  art  with  me."  As  I  repeated  it  to  him,  he  grew 
quiet  and  peaceful,  and  his  trouble  seemed  to  pass 
away  :  he  died  that  night. 

We  started  up  river  on  Tuesday.  When  we  left  St. 
Louis  we  expected  to  go  back  there,  but  the  govern- 
ment sent  down  word,  or  orders,  that  the  sick  should 
be  taken  to  Memphis,  and  the  boat  return  to  Vicksburg 


58  MEMOIR    OF 

either  as  a  hospital  boat  or  as  was  needed.  Besides 
the  nurses  detailed  for  the  boat,  six  ladies  came  from 
St.  Louis  with  us,  intending  to  return  as  nurses  on 
other  boats ;  but  there  were  no  other  boats  coming,  so 
they  stayed  with  us,  and  well  they  did  !  Every  one 
was  needed.  To  cook  for  these  sick  and  supply  them 
was  no  light  task.  The  boat  reached  Memphis  on 
Friday.  The  men  were  disembarked  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible. We  ladies  found  we  must  return  to  St.  Louis  by 
a  packet  steamer ;  so  went  on  board  one  at  Memphis, 
and  next  found  that  the  government  had  ordered  this 
one  to  go  back  from  Cairo  to  Vicksburg,  —  pressed  into 
service.  So  to-night  we  take  the  cars,  and  hope  to 
reach  St.  Louis  to-morrow.  There  were  many  interest- 
ing things  at  Vicksburg,  —  the  camp,  the  men  at  their 
various  works.  I  was  glad  to  see  some  of  the  Western 
generals.  I  found  them  very  pleasant  and  cordial :  full 
of  anxious  thought,  but  hopeful  and  determined ;  they 
may  die,  but  they  will  not  give  up.  We  have  some 
splendid  men  at  the  West  here ;  I  wish  you  could  see 
some  of  them.  I  do  not  know  where  I  shall  be  placed 
when  I  go  back  to  St.  Louis.  I  know  one  thing,  —  it 
will  all  be  ordered  rightly  :  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  be  will- 
ing to  be  led  by  One  who  is  unfailing. 

March  3.  —  I  write  in  rather  an  abrupt  style,  but  I 
write  often  when  tired  and  can  only  write  a  little. 
You  have  no  conception  of  the  state  of  the  boat  when 
we  left  it.  Hercules  might  have  cleaned  it,  nobody  else 
could  ;  it  was  awful !  We  had  no  regular  working-woman 
on  board ;  only  contrabands  who  have  not  the  slightest 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  59 

idea  of  neatness.  The  men  on  board  were  very  home- 
sick, —  longing  so  for  wife  and  children.  One  man  told 
me  he  had  a  child  married,  and  other  younger  ones  :  he 
was  getting  well,  and  all  his  thoughts  seemed  to  be  for 
them  and  seeing  them.  They  were  of  all  ages,  some 
mere  boys.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  their  meet- 
ing in  another  life,  —  whether  they  will  think  of  their 
comradeship  here.  There  must  be  a  strange  mingling 
of  influences,  — the  spirits  who  are  attendant  on  the 
dying  and  the  dead,  those  who  are  helping  the  living 
and  influencing  in  their  different  offices  of  use.  You 
do  not  know  how  much  you  are  passing  through  at 
such  times,  till  it  is  all  over  and  you  feel  the  reaction. 
I  am  glad  of  this  two  or  three  days'  rest.  I  am  struck 
with  the  immediate  peace  that  repeating  the  Word 
brings  to  the  men  when  in  trouble  ;  it  is  almost  un- 
failing, especially  when  they  are  dying.  I  am  getting 
sadly  familiar  with  death,  —  I  say,  sadly,  for  it  is  hard 
to  have  it  come  in  such  a  way  through  this  unnatural 
war.  You  feel  that  it  should  be  the  mother  or  wife's 
hand  they  should  cling  to,  and  not  that  of  the  stranger. 
March  3,  St.  Louis.  —  After  we  got  on  board  the 
return  boat,  it  was  ordered  to  return  to  Vicksburg 
from  Cairo;  so  we  took  the  cars  at  the  latter  place 
and  reached  St.  Louis  yesterday.  One  of  the  ladies, 
Mrs.  King,  took  us  home  with  her.  This  morning  I 
reported  to  Mr.  Hasard.  Where  he  will  now  place  me 
I  do  not  know  ;  there  is  a  blissful  uncertainty  about 
the  army.  There  is  one  thing  I  try  to  remember,  — 
that  we  are  in  the  hands  of  One  who  knoweth  best, 


60  MEMOIR   OF 

and  He  will  put  me  where  it  is  best  for  me  to  go.  If 
He  sees  it  is  best  for  me  to  continue  in  my  work,  He 
will  give  me  a  place,  and  if  He  does  not,  I  shall  pray  to 
be  willing  to  do  just  what  He  wishes.  I  am  not  al- 
lowed to  work  merely  for  the  soldiers  ;  my  own  disci- 
pline is  going  on  at  the  same  time,  and  I  must  be 
willing  to  accept  whatever  is  really  best. 


LETTER  VI. 

MEMPHIS. 

DARLING  MOTHER, — I  am  on  board  the  boat  oppo- 
site the  city  of  Memphis.  Night  before  last  we  stopped 
all  night  on  account  of  the  fog,  so  had  the  advantage 
of  passing  the  most  interesting  places  in  daylight.  The 
Mississippi  is  perfectly  magnificent.  You  cannot  imag- 
ine such  a  river  unless  you  have  been  on  it ;  it  is  so 
grand  and  mighty,  and  such  a  mysterious  river  it  is, 
winding  in  the  most  unforeseen  manner  in  and  out, 
now  rushing  through  a  channel  not  wider  than  the 
Charles  River,  then  suddenly  widening  to  two  miles 
and  more.  Yesterday  we  stopped  at  Columbus ;  the 
fortifications  make  one  shiver  to  look  at  them  and 
think  of  our  brave  fellows  scaling  them  as  they  did. 
I  was  shown  the  places  where  they  went  up  and  were 
driven  back  into  the  river,  before  they  could,  after 
repeated  attempts,  gain  the"  victory.  We  passed  many 
places  that  will  always  be  memorable  in  our  history. 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  61 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  Island  !N"o.  10.  I 
little  thought,  when  I  read  the  accounts  last  winter, 
that  I  should  ever  see  it.  There  is  a  garrison  upon  it 
under  the  care  of  Colonel  Asboth.  The  other  night, 
four  thousand  guerillas  made  an  attack  upon  it,  but 
were  driven  back ;  so  you  see  the  garrison  is  a  neces- 
sity. You  cannot  think  how  different  being  in  the 
midst  of  the  war  is  to  hearing  of  it  at  a  distance. 

We  steam  under  the  yellow  flag,  and  they  do  not 
usually  fire  upon  that,  so  you  need  not  be  frightened 
about  me ;  at  any  rate  I  am  in  the  army,  and  like  it. 
To-day  we  reached  Memphis,  where  we  stop  till  we 
receive  our  orders  to  proceed ;  if  it  is  a  clear  night  we 
shall  probably  go  on,  it  is  not  safe  in  the  fog ;  the  river 
is  a  difficult  one  to  navigate.  We  are  four  hundred 
miles  from  St.  Louis.  We  have  just  heard  that  instead 
of  going  to  Vicksburg  we  have  received  orders  to  go  to 
Helena,  and  there  load  up  with  sick ;  how  true  this  will 
prove  we  do  not  know,  the  order  may  be  countermanded 
when  we  reach  Helena.  Do  you  remember  the  ac- 
counts we  read  of  the  fight  before  Memphis  between 
our  gunboats  and  those  of  the  enemy  1  We  are  on  the 
spot,  and  right  before  us  are  the  bluffs  where  the  people 
assembled  to  watch  the  fight. 

I  think  of  you  often,  but  am  not  as  homesick,  quite, 
as  I  was.  To-day  is  Sunday,  and  I  am  trying  to  think 
what  you  are  about.  Some  of  the  ladies  went  on 
shore,  but  I  must  not  leave  my  charge.  We  have  some 
sickness  on  board  among  the  men  :  one  has  diphtheria, 
but  will  probably  recover,  another  has  erysipelas,  and 


62  MEMOIR  OF 

there  are  other  cases.  The  cabin  is  being  put  in 
readiness  for  the  sick,  rows  of  hospital  beds  all  along, 
all  made  up  ready,  and  the  ship  being  put  in  order 
gradually.  I  have  just  received  one  of  our  new  laun- 
dresses, a  contraband,  with  one  pretty  little  boy ;  she 
wants  to  go  to  St.  Louis,  where  she  can  get  employment. 
When  the  doctor  saw  her  he  did  not  at  first  think  of 
taking  the  boy ;  but,  when  he  understood,  he  said  to 
me,  "  The  boy  may  come  too."  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  the  poor  woman's  face.  She  says  she  has  lost 
her  husband  :  her  boy  is  her  all.  She  looked  as  if  she 
would  like  to  go  down  at  the  doctor's  feet.  There  are 
many  contrabands  here. 

I  think  I  shall  finish  this  to  Carrie. 


LETTER   VII. 


MEMPHIS. 


DEAR  CAURIE,  —  I  was  very  glad  to  receive  your 
very  welcome  letter ;  when  one  is  as  far  away  from 
home  as  I  am  everything  is  welcomed.  It  is  so  warm, 
we  are  sitting  with  the  windows  open ;  the  climate  is 
lovely.  We  are  on  our  way  down  the  river  to  take  up 
sick  and  wounded.  The  soldiers  are  so  glad  to  have  a 
woman  among  them.  I  heard  a  funny  story  the  other 
day  with  regard  to  it.  At  one  of  our  outposts,  the 
soldiers  had  not  seen  a  woman  for  months.  At  last, 
the  wife  of  one  of  the  officers  went  to  make  him  a  visit ; 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  63 

on  her  landing,  all  the  soldiers  assembled  to  see  her, 
they  formed  a  lane  for  her,  shouting,  throwing  up  their 
caps,  and  acting  in  such  a  way  generally  that  the  poor 
woman  was  frightened  and  ran  as  fast  as  she  could  to 
her  husband's  quarters.  It  is  curious  sailing  through 
the  island  channels  here,  where  there  has  recently  been 
such  warfare.  We  may  be  going  to  Helena  or  Vicks- 
burg,  we  do  not  know  which.  If  we  go  to  Vicksburg 
we  shall  stop  above  the  city,  but  in  sight  of  it.  The 
hospital  boats  never  take  any  part  in  the  battle,  or  are 
fired  upon  as  other  boats  are ;  the  yellow  flag  floats  at 
our  mast-head  to  protect  the  wounded.  I  am  fairly  in 
the  army,  and,  if  my  strength  holds  out,  I  suppose  I 
shall  be  allowed  to  stay  in  it.  You  would  be  amused 
to  see  my  commissions  as  nurse.  I  wonder  what  I 
shall  do  next.  I  have  a  little  state-room  all  to  myself. 
The  doctor  is  very  kind,  and  took  great  care  to  ascer- 
tain if  I  was  comfortable.  He  has  a  lovely  little  wife, 
so  I  suppose  that  makes  him  considerate  towards 
women  generally. 

Monday.  Our  last  orders  are,  to  go  to  Vicksburg. 
If  there  is  an  engagement  going  on,  I  suppose  I  shall 
see  it.  Our  fleet  are  just  above  Vicksburg ;  we  shall 
stop  among  the  ships,  I  suppose.  We  are  taking  in 
necessaries.  Last  night  we  could  not  get  men  to  un- 
load the  boat.  There  is  a  strong  Secesh  feeling  here, 
and  the  men  hid  in  order  not  to  help  us.  The  Provost- 
Marshal  was  out  trying  to  press  men.  I  believe  he 
had  to  fall  back  upon  the  contrabands ;  poor  things, 
they  work  willingly.  You  would  laugh  to  see  me 


64 


MEMOIR   OF 


housekeeping  on  board  the  boat.  I  just  sent  on  shore 
for  some  blueing  to  counteract  the  effect  of  Mississippi 
water  on  the  clothes.  I  go  from  sick-beds  to  laundry, 
then  to  oversee  another  piece  of  work,  then  off  to  the 
supply  or  linen-room,  as  it  is  called  here,  to  give  out 
all  sorts  of  things,  then  to  tell  one  of  my  uurses  what 
to  give  a  sick  man  to  eat,  &c.  This  morning,  we  are 
marking  blankets,  to  prevent  their  being  carried  off  by 
soldiers  and  othei's.  I  do  not  know  when  we  shall 
reach  Vicksburg.  We  may  be  detained  at  Helena,  or 
fired  into  going  down ;  one  of  the  hospital  boats  which 
has  just  come  in  says  the  rebels  opened  a  battery  upon 
her  though  she  had  the  yellow  flag  flying.  But  mother 
need  not  be  frightened.  I  like  this  kind  of  life,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  keep  on  for  a  while.  At  any  rate,  the 
rebel  shots  are  no  more  dangerous  than  diseases  in  the 
hospitals,  tell  mother.  And,  then,  I  am  in  the  army. 
Can  you  imagine  taking  a  sail,  and  keeping  a  look- 
out for  the  enemy's  batteries  the  while ;  it  is  quite 
interesting.  Hospital  boats  do  not  carry  guns,  they 
being  non-combatants;  but  if  the  rebels  came  on 
board  I  would  find  something,  if  it  was  only  the 
poker. 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  65 


LETTER  VIII. 

ST.  Louis,  March  7,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  am  writing  in  Mrs.  Chauvenet's 
parlor.  I  arrived  in  St.  Louis  yesterday  morning 
about  eleven  o'clock.  I  thought  I  would  go  to  Mrs. 
C.'s  on  my  way  out,  and  dine  with  her.  I  had  the 
warmest  reception,  and  in  the  afternoon  Mrs.  C.  and  I 
went  out  to  see  the  doctor.  Very  glad  he  seemed  to 
see  me.  I  had  a  talk  with  him,  and  then  came  back 
with  Mrs.  Chauvenet.  My  room  was  not  ready  at  the 
hospital,  and  the  doctor  waited  to  see  which  room  I 
would  have.  Mrs.  C.  asked  me,  when  I  came,  to  visit 
her  before  I  went  out  to  Benton  Barracks ;  so  she 
seemed  glad  to  have  me  come  back  with  her  for  a  day 
or  two.  I  go  out  with  her  to  the  hospital  this  after- 
noon to  see  the  doctor  and  talk  over  work. 


LETTER  IX. 

ST.  Louis. 

DEAR  MOTHER, — I  have  just  been  to  Mr.  Hasard 
to  see  if  he  had  any  letters  for  me.  I  am  so  longing 
for  one.  I  have  an  idea  you  may  be  sick,  because  I  do 
not  hear.  I  suppose  you  have  not  yet  received  my 
last  letters.  None  of  mine  could  be  mailed  after  I 
left  Cairo ;  you  living  at  home,  have  no  idea  what  it  is 
to  be  where  war  is  actually  raging  around  you.  Every 

5 


66  MEMOIR   OF 

thing  is  stopped  or  changed,  and  upset  in  the  most 
unforeseen  manner.  When  I  went  on  board  the  boat, 
it  was  expected  that  she  would  continue  to  make  trips 
up  and  down  all  the  time,  and  I  should  remain  on 
board.  But  the  government  has  the  boat  under  orders 
at  Vicksburg,  no  one  knows  what  will  be  done  next. 
There  are  no  more  sick  to  be  brought  to  St.  Louis  at 
present.  I  knew  my  place  at  the  hospital  was  filled 
up,  for  the  head  surgeon  only  let  me  off  to  Mr.  Hasard 
on  condition  he  would  send  a  good  nurse  to  take  my 
place.  I  did  not  know  what  I  should  do  on  my  re- 
turn ;  but  Mr.  Hasard  wishes  this.  They  are  organiz- 
ing a  large  hospital  just  out  of  town,  and  the  head 
doctor  has  been  to  Mr.  H.,  to  tell  him  he  wants  a  lady 
at  the  head  of  the  female  part  of  it,  as  supervisor ; 
they  have  pitched  on  poor  little  me.  I  have,  as  usual, 
said  I  would  do  just  as  Mr.  Hasard  wished.  One  of 
the  ladies  who  was  on  board  the  boat  invited  me  to 
go  to  her  house  on  my  return  ;  was  she  not  good  ? 
She  is  Mrs.  King,  a  lovely  woman ;  I  am  at  her  house 
now.  I  go  to  this  new  hospital  as  soon  as  it  is  ready, 
—  in  a  few  days,  unless  Mr.  Hasard  changes  his  rnind 
about  me.  Every  one  is  friendly  to  me  here,  and  kind. 
Mr.  Yeatman  carried  your  last  letter  down  the  river, 
expecting  to  meet  me  there.  I  shall  get  it  when  he 
comes  home;  I  am  longing  for  it.  Mrs.  Chauvenet 
called  this  morning,  and  was  as  kind  as  kind  could  be ; 
she  said  she  was  anxious  lo  see  me,  because,  as  I  was 
a  stranger  here  she  wanted  to  ask  me  to  come  to  her 
house,  but  I  am  at  Mrs.  King's.  I  feel  I  have  friends 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  67 

to  go  to  now.  They  talk  of  the  taking  of  Vicksburg ; 
but,  mother,  if  the  talkers  could  see  it!  If  it  stands 
a  siege  instead  of  capitulating,  it  is  fearful  to  think 
what  that  siege  will  be.  I  have  been  right  in  front  of 
the  city  where  I  could  see  the  fortifications  and  breast- 
works ;  the  work  of  taking  it  will  be  awful.  I  never 
realized  in  the  East  what  a  war  was.  Now,  I  have 
been  down  to  it,  I  have  seen  the  camps  as  they  are 
away  from  home,  I  have  seen  the  work  the  men  have 
to  do,  and  talked  with  them,  seen  how  they  felt  about 
it;  and  there  will  be  no  turning  back.  But  I  have 
also  been  with  the  wounded  just  brought  from  the 
battle,  —  such  wounds  as  never  come  home  to  us  at 
the  East,  —  and  I  know  at  what  cost  the  work  is  done, 
and  how  nobly,  too,  that  cost  is  borne,  counted  as 
nothing  if  we  can  only  win,  and  guard  the  old  flag 
from  harm.  The  cost  is  great;  but  in  the  lives  of 
nations,  like  individuals,  there  come  seasons  when  we 
must  give  up  all.  Here,  side  by  side  with  all  this  noble 
stirring  is  the  Secesh  spirit  contrasting  with  it  at 
every  turn  ;  here,  you  really  see  the  struggle  between 
the  two  elements. 

I  went  to  the  Lawson  Hospital  to  see  my  old  pa- 
tients. I  got  a  hearty  greeting  ;  they  were  good  fellows, 
and  I  thought  a  great  deal  about  them.  The  poor 
men  on  the  boat,  in  all  their  suffering,  were  so  good, 
so  thoughtful  of  others  :  it  was  very  touching.  They 
were  so  glad  to  see  women  round  them.  They  had 
not  seen  a  woman  for  weeks  and  weeks.  One  of  the 
ladies  heard  one  of  the  men  say  to  another,  as  she 


68  MEMOIR  OF 

went  by,  "  Tom,  is  it  not  good  to  see  the  women 
round  1 "  If  those  who  object  to  women  in  hospitals 
could  only  hear  the  speeches  that  are  made  to  us,  I 
think  their  objections  would  be  answered.  As  I  bent 
over  them  when  they  were  laid  on  their  beds,  hard 
hands  were  stretched  out  to  clasp  mine,  and,  "  Oh,  it 
is  so  good  to  have  a  woman  come."  It  is  curious,  —  the 
strongest  feeling  is  always  for  the  mother,  her  name 
first  and  last,  usually;  and  when  they  were  speaking 
of  what  we  did  for  them,  the  phrase  always  was,  no 
matter  how  old  they  were,  "  we  had  been  like  mothers 
to  them." 

This  new  hospital  they  wish  me  to  go  to,  is  out  of 
the  city,  and  has  much  better  air,  and  healthier  than 
iu  the  city ;  it  is  in  the  country.  If  I  go  there  I 
think  I  shall  like  it.  But  the  question  of  liking  has 
to  be  set  aside,  and  that  of  doing  our  work  where  we 
are  sent,  substituted.  My  life  at  Fort  Schuyler  seems 
almost  play  work  compared  to  this ;  but  I  liked  it 
there,  the  sea  air  was  so  delicious. 


LETTER  X. 

ST.  Louis,  March  31. 

DEAR  MOTHER, — Mr.  Yeatman  has  just  sent  me 
your  letter  of  the  25th,  —  accompanied  by  a  packet 
of  snipe  and  a  quantity  of  rusks.  He  has  joined 
forces  with  ray  doctor ;  they  had  a  consultation  up  in 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  69 

my  room  one  day,  which  has  resulted  in  my  eating  a 
little  meat.1  Mr.  Yeatman  sends  me  snipe  with"  the 
threat  that  if  they  are  not  eaten  —  beefsteak  shall  be. 
He  has  also  sent  me  the  most  delicious  jelly,  the  maker 
of  which,  his  sister,  is  coming  to  see  me.  Of  course  I 
am  getting  well,  and  you  must  not  say  I  am  "worn 
out,"  but  got  sick  going  down  the  river,  as  a  great  many 
do.  I  am  glad  I  went ;  it  was  an  experience,  every  way, 
I  would  not  have  lost.  I  long  to  be  at  my  work  :  there 
is  so  much  to  be  done.  Mr.  Yeatman,  one  day,  wrote 
me  a  note  of  which  I  should  like  to  repeat  the  last 
words.  "  You  must  try  and  regard  it  [my  illness]  as 
only  a  part  of  your  schooling  for  the  high  and  holy 
mission  in  which  you  are  engaged."  Now,  mother,  I 
feel  sometimes  as  if  I  were  not  good  enough  for  the 
work,  and  that  was  the  reason  it  -was  taken  from  me 
for  a  time.  I  may  need  more  discipline  myself,  and 
not  be  as  really  fit  to  work  in  the  way  I  wish  as  I 
think  I  am.  We  shall  see ;  I  am  going  to  try  very 
hard,  and  keep  my  thoughts  and  actions  right  and 
Christianly,  and  then,  if  it  is  best  for  me,  I  shall  have 
this  work  to  do,  or  rather,  be  able  to  do  it.  Mrs. 
Chauvenet's  neighbors  have  been  kind  in  calling, 
and  sending  me  jelly  and  blanc-mange.  These  river 
diseases  oblige  one  to  be  careful.  I  have  got  ahead  of 
mine. 

1  When  this  letter  was  written,  my  daughter  was  getting 
better  from  an  attack  of  malarial  fever.  She  did  not  habitually 
eat  meat,  or  drink  wine,  or  tea  or  coffee.  I  suppose  she  spoke  of 
snipe,  and  in  a  later  letter  of  tea  and  of  wine,  that  we  might 
understand  she  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  her  physician. 


70  MEMOIR   OF 

If  the  Lord  sees  fit  to  let  me  work,  I  think  this  will 
be  a  good  place  for  me  ;  but  He  knows  best.  I  have 
just  eaten  one  of  my  snipe,  with  rusk,  and  drank  some 
wine  this  morning.  I  had  rather  have  tomatoes  and 
potatoes  than  either,  but  my  little  German  doctor  is 
decided. 

When  the  letters  miscarried,  and  I  was  three  weeks 
without  getting  one,  I  was  in  despair.  I  got  so  nerv- 
ous that  the  doctor  told  Mrs.  Chauvenet  my  mind 
wanted  helping  as  much  as  my  body. 


LETTER  XI. 

ST.  Louis,  EASTER  SUNDAY,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  am  thinking  of  you  to-day,  our 
Communion  Day.  I  wish  I  was  with  you.  I  know 
you  are  thinking  of  me.  Yesterday  morning  Mr. 
Yeatman  sent  me  a  basket  filled  with  the  loveliest 
spring  flowers,  wet  with  dew  ;  I  have  them  beautifully 
arranged,  placed  on  a  chair  by  me,  while  I  write  :  they 
fill  the  room  with  their  perfume.  I  am  invited  with 
the  Chauvenets  to  his  house  to-morrow  evening  to  meet 
General  and  Mrs.  McDowell.  I  am  not  yet  well  enough 
to  go  out  in  the  evening,  —  I  am  sorry.  On  my  bu- 
reau stands  a  sweet  little  bouquet  of  heart's-ease,  sent 
up  to  me  the  other  day.  The  St.  Louis  gentlemen 
have  the  prettiest  way  of  doing  things.  I  am  much 
better  than  I  was ;  can  go  out  into  the  garden,  and 
am  allowed  to  extend  my  diet  slightly ;  for  instance, 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  71 

I  \*as  permitted  a  baked  potato  for  dinner,  beef  tea,  and 
a  morsel  of  roast  beef ;  after  which  latter  enormity  I  am 
actually  alive.  Dr.  Eliot  is  at  the  head  of  most  of  the 
improvements  going  on  here  in  the  educational  point  of 
viesv ;  attached  to  his  church  is  a  mission  school  for  poor 
and  forlorn  children ;  I  do  not  know  that  I  should  say 
attached  to  his  church,  but  it  is  taught  by  the  young 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  his  church ;  his  son  Thomas 
Eliot,  is  the  principal  of  the  school.  You  may  imagine 
how  much  good  such  a  school  must  do.  Dr.  Eliot  is  also 
working  for  other  schools  and  for  the  University,  heart 
and  soul ;  he  has  the  most  wonderful  persistence,  never 
giving  up.  He  has  done  a  great  deal  here  for  education. 
I  feel  quite  impatient  to  be  at  my  work  again.  I  hope 
this  work  is  for  me.  My  cough  has  gone  ;  that  is  a  re- 
lief. Those  violets  you  sent  were  lovely.  What  a  woman 
you  are  !  I  keep  them  in  the  letter.  I  hope  to  have 
another  letter  to-morrow.  You  speak  of  feeling  afraid 
you  repeat  yourself  in  your  letters.  No  matter  if  you 
do ;  I  read  them  over  and  over,  so  it  amounts  to  the  same 
thing.  I  feel  very  quiet  and  contented  now.  I  have 
learnt  a  great  deal  during  my  sickness,  and  I  think  I 
can  feel  willing,  or  try  to  feel  so,  to  let  the  Lord  do 
what  he  pleases  with  me.  Give  my  love  to  all. 


LETTER  XII. 

ST.  Louis,  April  12, 1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  waited  all  the  week  for  a 
letter  to  answer,  and  have  concluded  to  wait  no  longer. 


72  MEMOIR   OF 

The  box  arrived  yesterday ;  to-morrow  I  am  going  to 
have  it  opened.  It  was  marked  "  from  the  McClellan 
Club."  The  interest  that  excited  among  the  young 
gentlemen  at  the  Sanitary,  and  their  remarks,  upon 
being  made  acquainted  with  the  history  of  that  highly 
distinguished  body,  I  shall  relate  to  Sabra  when  I 
tell  her  the  history  of  the  box.  I  am  quite  well  now. 
On  Friday,  Mr.  Yeatman  took  me  out  to  the  hospital 
I  am  appointed  to,  to  see  the  head  surgeon,  mon  chef, 
—  and  make  my  arrangements  with  him.  It  is  called, 
the  Benton  Barracks  Hospital.  It  is  out  of  the  city,  in 
an  enclosure  of  fifty  acres,  formerly  used  as  the  scene 
of  the  Horse  and  Cattle  Fairs  held  here.  The  great 
amphitheatre  has  been  made  into  a  hospital.  Then 
there  are  other  smaller  hospitals  in  the  grounds,  for  dif- 
erent  classes  of  patients.  The  whole  number  of  beds 
will  be  two  thousand.  They  are  not  all  put  up  yet 
(the  beds,  that  is).  It  is  a  very  large  and  fine  hospital. 
I  wish  you  could  see  it.  The  different  buildings  are 
large  and  well  arranged.  After  taking  me  over  them 
all,  Dr.  Russell  told  me  what  he  wanted  of  me.  He 
wishes  me  to  be  the  lady  supervisor  of  all  the  nurses, 
male  and  female,  I  myself  taking  my  directions  from 
him  ;  as  he  laughingly  told  me  he  should  not  allow 
any  one  to  scold  at  me,  he  should  reserve  that  privi- 
lege for  himself.  He  was  in  earnest  however ;  he  is  as 
particular  as  any  general,  and  all  his  officers  have  got 
to  mind  their  duties  as  well  as  they  can.  I  hope  and 
pray  that  I  may  have  undeYstanding  and  strength  to 
do  mine  properly.  I  never  expected  such  a  position  as 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  73 

this,  —  of  so  much  responsibility.  The  supervisor  some- 
times has  to  overlook  all  the  women,  cooks,  laundresses, 
ttc  ;  in  a  large  hospital  like  this,  that  would  be  im- 
possible ;  the  housekeeping  is  here  a  work  by  itself. 
At  Fort  Schuyler  the  ladies  had  a  special  kitchen; 
they  will  have  one  here,  I  am  very  glad  of  it.  It  did 
a  great  deal  of  good  there,  and  I  hope  will  in  this  case. 
My  quarters  are  in  a  large  house  just  outside,  opposite 
the  gate.  This  house  is  occupied  by  the  surgeons,  super- 
visor, and  the  lady  who  has  charge  of  the  linen-room. 
We  have  a  dining-room  where  we  all  take  our  meals  to- 
gether, head  surgeon  and  all.  and  a  pleasant  parlor  where 
we  can  see  our  friends.  Some  of  the  surgeons  have 
their  wives  with  them.  Mrs.  Forbes  is  the  house- 
keeper of  this  establishment ;  it  is  like  a  large  boarding 
house,  only  under  arrangements  to  suit  the  occupants. 
This  is  to  obviate  the  necessity  of  the  doctors'  seeking 
board  where  they  can.  The  Doctor  said  he  wanted  to 
make  it  as  much  of  a  family  arrangement  as  he  could. 
My  room  is  rather  small,  but  comfortable,  a  pleasant 
window  looking  out  on  an  upper  piazza,  a  good  bed, 
table,  washstand  with  china,  stove,  rocking-chair ! 
common  chair,  straw  carpet.  I  hope  my  hours  in  it 
will  be  tolerably  peaceful.  I  should  prefer,  as  far  as  my 
mere  personal  feelings  were  concerned,  my  one  ward  at 
Fort  S.  quietly  to  myself,  but  I  feel  that  I  may  be 
of  more  use  in  this  position,  and  I  would  rather  be 
where  I  can  be  of  the  most  use.  My  various  experi- 
ences have  prepared  me  for  it,  I  hope,  and  for  one  thing, 
I  believe  that  all  we  do  is  overruled,  and  I  should  not 


74  MEMOIR   OF 

have  been  placed  in  such  a  position  without  any  seeking 
of  my  own,  unless  there  had  been  some  good  reason  for 
it, —  some  use  which  I  could  rightly  perform  there  ;  and 
having  been  so  sent  there  gives  me  hope  that  there 
may  be  in  me  the  fitness  for  such  a  charge,  if  I  seek  to 
do  only  what  is  right.  That  is  sometimes  very  dim- 
cult.  The  Doctor  wants  me  there  as  soon  as  I  can 
come ;  I  expect  to  go  out  on  Tuesday.  The  Doctor 
seemed  very  desirous  that  everything  should  please 
me  ;  he  asked  me  two  or  three  times  over  if  I  liked  my 
room.  I  hope  this  will  be  something  permanent,  but 
I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  could  look  forward  one  week  ;  I  have 
had  so  many  changes,  and  we  live  in  such  a  time  of 
change.  Mr.  Yeatman  took  me  a  very  pleasant  ride, 
showing  me  some  of  the  forts ;  St.  Louis  is  protected 
by  ten  forts.  It  was  threatened  by  Secesh  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war,  but  General  Lyons  and  the  volun- 
teers saved  the  city,  and,  through  the  city,  the  State. 
Mr.  Y.  gave  me  a  very  interesting  account  of  it.  We 
passed  the  old  rifle-pits,  built  on  the  sides  of  the  road 
to  command  the  approaches  to  the  city. 


LETTER  XIII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
April  19. 

DEAR  MOTHER, — I  have  only  just  received  your 
letter  of  April  9.  I  cannot  think  why  it  was  so 
long  coming.  I  suppose  you  will  have  my  long  letter 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PAESONS.  75 

to  Sabra  a  day  before  this  reaches  you.  This  morn- 
ing was  a  very  busy  one ;  it  was  inspection  day.  Sun- 
day is  the  day  appointed.  I  thought  that  while  the 
M.  D.'s  were  going  the  rounds  I  should  write  to  you  ; 
but,  no,  the  Doctor  tranquilly  informed  me  that  he 
wished  me  to  accompany  him.  I  was  to  be  in  the 
first  ward  he  entered  and  join  him  there.  I  began 
the  day  as  usual,  with  a  visit  before  breakfast  to  some 
of  the  wards.  After  breakfast,  again  in  the  wards, 
looking  after  nurses  and  seeing  how  the  sick  were 
doing.  At  ten,  I  was  awaiting  the  Doctor.  The  form 
is  this ;  the  wards  are  put  in  perfect  order ;  then,  when 
the  Doctor  comes,  the  steward  enters  and  commands, 
Attention !  All  the  men  who  are  able  rise  and 
salute  the  Doctor  and  suite.  So  we  go  through  all  the 
wards,  kitchens,  and  dispensaries.  We  wound  up  to- 
day by  getting  into  an  ambulance,  as  many  as  it  would 
hold,  that  is,  and  went  over  to  Beuton  Barracks,  where 
there  is  an  army  hospital,  of  which  our  Doctor  is 
superintendent ;  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  There 
are  not  many  sick  there.  After  we  came  home  the 
Doctor  said  to  me  he  wished  to  have  a  long  talk  with 
me  about  my  duties.  I  felt  something  as  I  have  done 
on  entering  a  dentist's  room.  We  had  our  long  talk, 
and  he  denned  my  work  exactly ;  he  says  I  have  a  large 
field  to  work  in,  and  so  I  have,  it  almost  dismays  me ; 
indeed,  it  would  quite,  if  I  did  not  hope  I  should  be 
guided  and  protected.  I  will  tell  you  how  my  work  is 
laid  out.  I  have  direct  and  complete  control  over  the 
female  nurses,  I  also  direct  all  the  male  nurses  ;  I  do  the 


76  MEMOIR   OF 

latter  work  mostly  through  ward-masters  who  are  here 
simply  head  nurses.  They  have  the  care  of  directing 
all  the  cleaning  of  the  wards  and  changing  the  patients' 
linen.  I  tell  these  men  what  I  wish  to  have  done,  how  I 
wish  to  have  it  done  and  when  they  are  to  see  that  it  is 
done  ;  I  tell  a  nurse  myself  if  necessary.  I  see  that  the 
wards  are  kept  clean  and  properly  arranged,  &c.,  &c.  I 
have  now  to  train  the  female  nurses ;  they  are  to  give 
all  the  medicines,  see  that  the  special  diet  patients  get 
all  they  are  ordered  to  eat  and  that  it  is  properly  served 
out  to  them  ;  and  to  watch  the  patients  and  do  for 
them  whatever  they  require.  This  I  have  to  teach 
them  so  far  as  they  do  not  know  it,  and  they  have  not 
generally  much  experience.  I  was  sent  in  town  by  the 
Doctor  to-day  to  see  Mr.  Yeatman  about  more  nurses. 
I  passed  some  time  looking  over  a  list,  and  selecting 
from  it  those  who  appeared  suitable.  I  have  one  nice 
one  in  the  amphitheatre  in  one  of  the  new  wards, 
whom  I  like  very  much  ;  I  put  another  in  to-morrow  ; 
I  have  been  regulating  one  very  nice  ward,  and  have 
the  nurses  working  well.  The  surgeon  told  me  he 
was  very  glad  to  have  me  there.  To-morrow,  I 
expect  — 

Tuesday.  —  Are  you  used  to  my  stoppages  yet  ] 
This  morning  I  went  as  usual  into  the  wards,  and 
found  so  much  to  do  at  once  that  I  did  not  get  back 
till  breakfast  was  half  over.  Then  out  again  to  the 
wards,  seeing  to  this  thing  and  that.  The  place  is 
very  beautiful,  though  in  summer  very  hot,  the  Doctor 
informs  me  that  the  mosquitoes  have  bills  immensely 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  77 

long,  regular  Sangradoes.  I  am  now  in  search  of  a 
suitable  man  to  be  my  orderly  ;  his  duty  wiffbe  to  fol- 
low me  round  and  do  my  errands ;  the  difficulty  is  to 
find  one  strong  enough.  One  of  the  ward-masters  in- 
formed me  that  he  would  not  undertake  to  follow  me 
round,  for  I  seemed  to  be  everywhere.  You  need  not 
send  me  a  lantern  :  I  have  one,  and  go  about  evenings 
with  it  slung  on  my  arm.  My  evening  visits  are  im- 
portant ones.  One  of  the  men  who  died  here  the  other 
day  interested  me  very  much.  I  sat  by  him  some  time 
the  evening  he  supposed  would  be  his  last ;  when  I  got 
up  to  go,  he  bade  me  good-by  so  touchingly,  hold- 
ing my  hand  in  his  poor  trembling  ones.  I  wonder 
whether  I  shall  ever  meet  these  dying  ones  again.  I 
have  watched  by  some  I  should  like  to  see  again 
bright  and  happy.  This  is  a  curious  sort  of  life  and 
there  is  one  thing  trying  about  it ;  every  night  when 
I  review  the  day  I  see  something  which  I  could  have 
done  better,  or  ought  to  have  done  differently.  It 
is  rather  discouraging  to  see  one's  self  so  far  from 
being  just  what  one  should  be,  or  near  it.  I  am 
improving,  I  hope,  and  I  am  certainly  learning.  I  hope 
I  shall  be  able  to  discharge  the  duties  rightly.  This 
afternoon  I  had  to  give  a  reproof  to  a  ward-master  for 
doing  something  without  my  sanction,  which  he  ought 
not  to  have  done.  I  do  not  know  which  felt  the  worse, 
he  or  I.  I  have  a  new  nurse  to  train  to-morrow,  she 
looks  pleasant  and  good. 

Wednesday.  — The  new  nurse  has  come  ;  I  have  set 
her  to  work.     I  wish  I  had  a  set  of  nurses  who  knew 


78  MEMOIR  OF 

just  what  to  do,  and  would  take  right  hold  ;  however, 
all  can  learn. 

Dr.  Russell  says  he  knows  Dr.  Wyman  and  also  Dr. 
Bowditch,  very  well  ;  he  himself  is  from  Natick,  Mass.  ; 
his  family  are  there  now  ;  his  whole  name  is  Ira  Rus- 
sell. As  he  is  the  head  here,  I  thought  you  would  like 
to  know  of  some  who  are  acquainted  with  him.  It  is 
very  interesting  here:  I  am  beginning  to  love  the  place 
very  much.  I  made  a  short  tour  with  the  Doctor  this 
morning,  which  resulted  in  more  work  for  me.  Mr. 
Yeatman  says  he  wrote  to  you  last  week ;  he  was  so  afraid 
you  would  send  for  me  :  what  he  said  in  the  letter  I 
do  not  know,  except  that  I  was  out  here.  I  have  been 
very  ill  from  malaria.  I  actually  grew  thin  ;  one  friend 
told  me  I  looked  peaked ;  so  I  got  to  the  glass  to  see, 
and  I  did.  I  am  quite  well  now,  or  I  could  not  work 
as  I  do.  My  little  room  is  very  pleasant  :  I  have  some 
lovely  flowers  on  my  table,  from  Mr.  Yeat man's  gar- 
den ;  they  are  the  flowers  yon  have  by  afad  by.  I 
have  been  giving  several  of  the  caps  the  Club  sent  on,  to 
soldiers  who  had  neuralgic  pains  in  the  head  :  they  were 
very  much  pleased  with  them.  The  pin-cushions  ex- 
cited great  interest ;  they  are  all  appropriated.  The 
bandages  have  already  corne  into  use.  A  box  of  any- 
thing is  acceptable.  I  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of 
a  new  nurse  ;  I  have  taken  her  to  her  ward,  given  her 
general  directions,  and  left  her  to  domesticate.  Then 
other  business  ;  I  was  about  so  much  this  morning 
I  am  resting  a  little  while. 

I  wish  you  could  see   this  place  and  the  men  in 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  79 

it ;  there  are  more  coming  out ;  I  suppose  we  shall 
by  and  by  have  two  thousand  patients.  Some  of  the 
men  are  sinking ;  it  is  sad  to  see  it.  They  are  very 
good  and  patient,  but  so  subdued  sometimes  by  their 
long  suffering,  it  is  very  sad  ;  you  have  no  idea  of  the 
weariness  produced  by  long,  sad  sickness  away  from 
home  and  woman's  care.  The  peculiar  sort  of  sub- 
rnissiveness  it  causes  is  like  that'  of  a  poor  tired  child 
who  wants  somebody  to  take  care  of  him,  and  is  too 
weak  to  do  for  himself.  When  you  see  it  in  a  man 
who  should  be  strong  and  well,  it  is  very  sad.  The 
men  are  beginning  to  care  for  me  ;  as  I  stop  at  the  beds 
as  I  go  round,  the  hands  are  put  out  to  take  mine, 
and  I  must  hear  how  they  are,  and  say  something  to 
them.  One  poor  fellow  who  did  not  get  his  strength 
was  too  sober  to  be  enlivened  by  anything,  till  I  re- 
marked very  gravely,  "  I  was  very  impatient  for  my 
children  to  begin  to  walk,"  the  idea  struck  him  as  so 
comic  that  he  laughed  right  out,  and  became  quite 
bright.  One  has  to  think  of  all  sorts  of  things  to  say 
to  them. 


LETTER  XIV. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
April  21,  1863. 

Who  would  have  thought  a  few  years  ago,  that  I 
should  be  the  superintendent  of  a  hospital,  teaching 
nurses.  Truly,  the  world  turns  round  funnily. 


80  MEMOIR   OF 

22d.  —  My  letter  was  stopped  by  my  aching  eyes. 
This  afternoon  I  was  obliged  to  write  a  letter  to  a  widow 
whose  husband  I  was  with  when  he  was  dying.  I  wrote 
once,  and  in  her  answer  she  asked  some  questions  which 
I  answered.  I  think  I  will  enclose  the  letter  that  you 
may  see  what  sort  of  letters  we  receive.  To  write  these 
letters  is  one  of  our  saddest  duties. 


LETTER  XV. 

BENTOX  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
April  26,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  Should  you  like  a  letter  from  me  1 
I  am  very  busy  now,  but  find  time  this  morning. 
The  Doctors  have  finished  inspection.  I  asked  the 
Doctor  if  he  wished  me  to  accompany  him  usually ;  he 
said  not  if  I  did  not  wish  to ;  he  had  wished  it  the 
last  Sunday,  that  I  might  see  how  everything  looked, 
but  he  did  not  care  about  it.  I  was  rather  relieved, 
for  it  is  quite  a  public  affair.  Yesterday  we  received 
one  hundred  and  fifty  more  men  from  Memphis.  They 
were  very  glad  to  get  here.  There  are  some  very  sick 
ones  among  them ;  as  they  came,  I  was  in  the  wards, 
to  see  if  they  were  properly  prepared  for  them,  and  to 
speak  to  the  men  as  they  came  in.  I  got  so  tired  see- 
ing new  faces,  my  head  fairly  ached ;  you  have  no  idea 
how  it  affects  one.  It  is_not  the  mere  seeing;  I  speak 
to  each  one,  they  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  them, 
and  in  that  way  I  get  the  run  of  the  ward,  and  can 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  81 

direct  the  nurses  better.  One  man  is  very  ill  with 
heart  complaint.  I  saw  him  this  morning  as  he  was 
recovering  from  a  very  trying  attack ;  I  sat  down  by 
him  and  talked  with  him;  he  told  me  that  he  thought 
he  was  dying  when  he  was  so  ill :  he  seemed  very  much 
affected. 

Monday  evening.  This  has  been  a  fatiguing  day. 
Before  breakfast  I  made  the  tour  of  the  wards,  that 
had  female  nurses  in  them.  After  breakfast,  round 
again.  I  have  to  observe  whether  the  nurses  are  at. 
their  posts  and  doing  their  duty,  if  a  patient  needs  his 
face  bathed,  water  compress  on  his  head,  another  pillow 
and  change  of  position,  or  flannel  wrapped  round  him, 
&c.  ;  if  the  nurses  have  not  seen  to  it,  call  their 
attention  and  show  them  what  ought  to  be  done.  Then 
I  have  to  look  after  the  ventilation,  see  that  windows 
are  properly  opened  and  that  the  wards  are  clean  and 
attended  to  in  season ;  if  they  are  not,  speak  to  the 
ward-master,  or  report  the  ward ;  see  that  the  special 
diet  is  properly  cooked  when  it  comes  up,  and  served  in 
season  ;  if  not,  report  the  cook.  I  report  to  the  head 
surgeon  every  day.  To-day  two  new  nurses  came ;  I 
had  to  place  them,  and  see  to  their  room.  It  being 
Monday,  I  had  to  make  out  a  weekly  report  of  the 
nurses,  —  female  nurses,  —  the  ward-master  sends  in 
the  report  of  all  the  male  nurses,  that  is,  of  where 
they  are  when  entered,  by  whose  orders,  «kc.  This 
is  done  every  Monday,  and  any  change  or  new  nurse 
coming  in  the  week  reported  at  once. 

I  wrote  a  letter  this  morning  for  the  poor  man  I 
6 


82  MEMOIR   OF 

spoke  of  the  other  day ;  he  says  he  trusts  in  the  Lord. 
He  told  me  he  thought  he  was  dying,  and  he  seemed 
tried  at  the  thought  of  dying  here.  I  told  him  how  the 
Lord  cared  for  him,  and  how  he  was  waiting  to  take 
him  home  just  as  he  himself  would  take  a  little  child, 
for  we  were  all  little  children  in  our  Father's  hands. 
He  said  he  knew  it,  and  looked  comforted.  He 
asked  me  to  write  to  his  wife,  "  that  he  was  trusting 
calmly  in  the  Lord."  We  hope  he  will  get  his  dis- 
charge and  go  home. 

Tuesday  morning.  I  was  so  sleepy  I  had  to  stop 
and  go  to  bed,  and  now  I  must  stop  and  go  to  the 
Doctor.  ...  I  had  to  arrange  some  details  with  him. 
For  one  thing,  the  nurses  like  to  sit  in  their  room  a  little 
while  in  the  evening.  The  hospital  rule  is,  all  lights 
out  at  nine  o'clock.  I  told  the  Doctor  the  nurses 
needed  more  time,  so  the  rule  now  is,  all  nurses'  lights 
out  at  ten.  As  their  breakfast  is  at  six,  that  is  none 
too  early,  the  Doctor  says.  I  like  the  place  very  much, 
it  is  very  pleasant  out  here.  I  hope  I  shall  not  have 
varioloid  ;  we  sent  away  ten  cases  this  morning  to  the 
small-pox  hospital.  I  had  been  over  them  every-day 
since  they  came  in.  Poor  fellows  !  they  looked  sadly 
when  they  had  to  be  dressed  and  changed  to  another 
place.  I  found  a  woman  with  her  baby  sitting  on  one  of 
the  beds  the  other  day  ;  on  stopping  to  speak  to  her,  she 
told  me  that  her  husband,  whom  she  was  sitting  by,  had 
never  seen  his  child  before  that  day.  It  was  five  months 
old ;  he  was  holding  it,  and  looking  at  it,  as  if  there 
never  was  a  baby  before.  He  could  not  say  much,  but 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  83 

I  wish  you  could  have  seen  his  face.  The  child  was 
a  beautiful  boy.  One  of  the  ward-masters  has  a  brown 
cat  of  which  he  is  very  fond ;  he  is  quite  an  old 
man,  and  puss  seems  to  supply  the  place  of  family. 
How  do  you  think  she  begins  the  day  ?  With  a  glass 
of  egg  nog  compounded  for  her  by  himself;  I  sup- 
pose he  thinks  it  beneficial.  A  hospital  is  an  odd  place, 
all  sorts  of  things  meet  and  come  out.  I  hope  to  hear 
from  you  soon.  ...  I  am  longing  for  letters.  .  .  . 
I  wish  you  could  see  how  good  and  patient  the  men 
are.  Most  or  many  of  them  begin  the  day,  after  break- 
fast, with  their  Bibles,  when  they  are  so  weak  they  can 
hardly  hold  the  book.  They  turn  to  it  for  strength 
and  support.  It  is  very  touching  when  you  know  their 
days  are  numbered,  to  see  them  in  pain  and  trouble, 
clinging  to  this  comfort ;  and  such  a  happy  thought 
that  they  are  soon  to  read  it  in  joy  and  gladness.  The 
lady  nurses  are  very  kind  to  their  men,  and  are  a  great 
comfort  to  them ;  the  Doctors  find  the  wards  where 
there  are  lady  nurses  get  along  so  nicely  that  they  are 
all  anxious  to  have  them.  They  keep  asking  me  when 
they  too  shall  have  ladies  in  their  wards.  Mr.  Yeat- 
man  says  he  is  going  to  send  out  twelve  more  between 
now  and  Monday,  and  there  will  be  more  by  and  by. 
The  amphitheatre  alone  takes  twenty ;  we  have  nine 
now ;  these  new  ones  will  make  twenty-one  ;  we  shall 
probably  want  about  thirty. 

We  are  going  upon  a  new  plan  in  some  respects,  and 
it  takes  a  great  deal  of  thought  and  care  to  adapt  things 
and  people.  I  like  young  nurses ;  they  are  more  willing 


84  MEMOIll  OF 

to  follow  directions,  more  energetic,  and  stronger ;  so  I 
asked  Mr.  Yeatman  to  furnish  us  with  such.  I  do  not 
want  old  women  in  the  wards,  unless  they  are  trained, 
habitual  nurses,  that  have  always  kept  up  to  the  mark. 
We  have  about  twice,  or  more  than  twice,  as  many 
male  nurses  as  female.  The  acting  corps  of  a  large 
hospital  like  this  is  immense,  take  it  in  all. 

Evening,  I  went  out  to  the  wards  this  afternoon ; 
found  things  to  attend  to.  The  wards  are  so  large  that 
we  have  more  than  one  female  nurse  to  each.  The  wards 
in  the  amphitheatre  are  so  very  large  that  we  have,  or 
shall  have,  four  female  nurses  to  each  one.  I  assign  them 
each  a  quarter  and  see  that  they  keep  in  it.  The  male 
nurses  are  also  assigned,  one  to  each  quarter.  I  found 
some  men  very  sick  to-day.  I  think  we  shall  have 
more  deaths  soon  among  them.  I  was  quite  struck  by 
the  feeling  shown  by  the  men  to  their  comrades  on 
many  occasions.  They  are  good  to  each  other. 

The  other  day,  one  of  my  female  nurses  came  to  me, 
and  informed  me  she  was  married  the  day  before  to  the 
bugler  !  It  seems  they  were  engaged,  and  thought,  to 
avoid  the  remarks  his  visits  might  occasion,  they  had 
better  be  married.  So  I  marched  over  to  the  doctor  with 
this  little  item.  He  was  very  much  amused.  The  lady 
has  been  sharing  a  room  with  three  other  nurses.  I  told 
the  Doctor  I  thought  he  would  have  to  provide  for  them, 
and  he  has  given  them  a  room  to  themselves,  into 
which  they  moved  to-dajvto  the  great  delight  of  the 
bugler  bridegroom.  Everything  here  is  military.  The 
gates  are  guarded  night  and  day  by  sentries,  and  no 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  35 

soldier  can  go  in  or  out  without  a  pass.  The  cavalry 
are  frequently  passing  to  and  from  the  Barracks  beyond 
the  hospital.  They  are  very  picturesque  and  effective  as 
they  go  winding  in  and  out  among  the  trees.  The  calls 
are  blown  by  a  bugler ;  every  now  and  then  the  soft 
tones  come  floating  on  the  air,  most  poetically  stating 
that  dinner  is  ready,  <kc.  The  Doctofr  is  very  good 
and  kind  and  thorough,  and  everybody  else  has  to  be 
thorough  too.  I  hope  I  shall  have  strength  and  wis- 
dom given  me  to  do  this  work  rightly.  I  love  it  very 
much,  though  it  is  so  arduous. 


LETTER  XVI. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
April  30. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  just  finished  my  evening 
round,  and  am  going  to  try  to  keep  awake  long  enough 
to  talk  with  you  a  while. 

This  afternoon  we  had  a  very  interesting  scene.  One 
of  the  buildings  is  a  circular  one,  to  be  used  as  a  hos- 
pital when  we  fill  up  quite;  in  the  mean  time,  the 
Doctor  has  given  permission  that  it  should  be  used 
as  a  chapel.  This  afternoon  we  had  a  meeting  in  it, 
Dr.  Eliot  presiding.  The  beds  were  placed  in  close 
rows  and  used  as  seats ;  a  pulpit,  lent  us  for  the 
present,  on  one  side,  a  harmonium  by  the  side  of  that. 
I  went  over  with  the  Doctor,  after  making  my  report 


86  MEMOIR   OF 

of  the  wards  to  him.  I  should  like  to  have  had  you 
see  the  interior ;  the  pulpit,  with  Dr.  Eliot's  beau- 
tiful gray  head  above  it ;  in  front,  row  upon  row  of 
Sabbath-school  children,  who  caine  out  to  sing  to  the 
soldiers,  some  ladies  who  came  from  the  city,  and  all 
the  rest  filled  with  soldiers,  crowded ;  their  weather- 
beaten,  worn  faces,  that  had  watched  for  the  enemy 
month  after  mouth,  in  the  battle-field  and  on  the  lonely 
picket,  now  turned  towards  him  who  preached  the 
Word  of  the  Lord,  giving  words  of  help  and  comfort  to 
those  who  were  in  need  of  such  strength  and  cheer. 
He  spoke  to  them  of  the  war ;  he  said  it  was  a  Chris- 
tian war,  for  we  were  fighting  for  the  Lord's  cause,  his 
freedom  and  right.  He  took  for  his  text,  "  He  who 
loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy 
of  me."  The  children  began  by  singing  a  beautiful 
hymn,  beginning  "Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  Cross ! " 
Then  there  was  a  prayer,  then  another  hymn,  then 
Doctor  Eliot's  address.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen 
the  soldiers  when  the  little  children  were  singing : 
they  are  most  of  them  fathers,  their  little  ones  far 
away.  After  Dr.  Eliot,  the  children  sang  "  Marching 
along." 

After  the  benediction,  I  had  to  make  my  afternoon 
tour  of  the  wards ;  seeing  that  men  were  cared  for, 
that  nurses  did  their  duty.  I  hope  I  shall  not  fail  in 
mine ;  I  feel  as  if  I  had  to  watch  myself  more  than 
anybody  else.  After  supper,  seeing  an  old  woman 
who  wanted  to  see  me ;  in  the  evening  out  to  the 
wards  to  see  that  the  night-nurses  do  their  duty,  that 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PAKSONS.  87 

the  men  are  comfortable.  I  have  to  remind  the  nurses 
of  things  continually  and  do  things  myself.  I  found 
one  of  my  men,  who  I  think  is  dying  of  consumption, 
sad  and  weak.  I  sat  down  by  him,  and^read  to  him 
the  103d  Psalm ;  he  seemed  to  feel  it  very  much,  and 
looked  up  so  gratefully  for  the  good  words.  What 
should  we  do  without  them  1  There  is  another  man  in 
the  same  ward,  sinking  the  same  way.  I  was  reading 
to  him  this  morning. 

Friday  morning.  I  have  a  few  minutes  before  din- 
ner for  you  and  me.  I  was  out  this  morning  among 
the  wards,  visited  them  all  before  breakfast ;  my  break- 
fast was  late,  I  admit.  After  breakfast  out  again ;  one 
thing  and  another  to  attend  to,  direct  or  do.  In  one 
ward,  where  there  was  no  female  nurse,  I  found  a  poor 
feverish  patient,  the  cloth  on  his  head  all  warm,  the 
heedless  men  nurses  not  thinking  of  it ;  I  got  ice- 
water,  bathed  his  face  and  then  his  hands.  As  I 
worked  over  him,  I  looked  up  at  him,  and  he  was 
watching  me  with  such  a  look.  I  left  him  more  com- 
fortable, with  a  cool,  wet  compress  on  his  head  and 
quiet  in  his  face.  And  so  we  work  on,  here  a  little 
and  there  a  little.  The  Doctor  is  very  kind  in  his  in- 
tercourse with  me,  —  explaining  things  in  my  work, 
advising  me  how  to  do,  and  how  to  act  with  others, 
and  to  them.  He  has  a  great  deal  of  tact  himself."  It 
is  a  great  help  to  me  to  have  such  a  person  to  act  with 
and  guide  me.  My  position  is  an  arduous  one. 

I  wish  you  could  see  the  caps  you  sent  on,  on  the 
wearers'  heads ;  one  tried  on  three,  and  at  last  pitched 


00  MEMOIR  OF 

upon  the  least  pretty,  but  he  thought  it  becoming. 
One  of  the  men  got  a  cap  of  black  velvet  trimmed  with 
red ;  he  came  to  me  in  great  dismay,  to  say  that  the 
men  told  him  it  was  Secesh,  and  would  I  give  him 
something  blue  to  pin  on ;  so  I  have  made  him  a  blue 
knot,  and  shall  take  it  to  him  this  afternoon.  There 
goes  the  bugle  !  so  I  suppose  we  shall  have  dinner 
soon. 

Afternoon.  A  new  nurse  came  just  now,  a  widow, 
who  seeks  consolation  in  nursing.  I  suppose  she 
thinks  fifty  men  will  console  her  for  one.  I  hope  they 
will.  I  have  assigned  her  a  pleasant  ward.  Have  you 
any  good  advice  to  give  me  1  Let  me  have  it  if  you 
have.  We  have  just  had  a  delicious  shower,  it  cooled 
the  air  so  refreshingly.  A  thunder-storm  is  as  good  as 
an  ice-cream  on  a  hot  day.  I  want  my  German  Ollen- 
dorff  and  Key.  I  need  them  here. 


LETTER  XVII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
May-day,  1863. 

I  AM  better  than  I  have  been;  my  cough  is  very 
slight  and  I  am  stronger.  For  some  time  I  had 
coughed  very  badly  with  a  sort  of  intermittent  fever 
every  other  day.  I  did  not  give  up  work  for  it,  but 
am  very  glad  to  feel  more  comfortable,  and  more  able 
to  work.  Our  hospital  is  in  fine  condition.  The  new 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  89 

nurses  take  hold  well  and  are  interested  in  their  work  ; 
in  the  colored  wards  the  nurses  are  teaching  their  men 
to  read,  write,  and,  in  some  instances,  to  cipher.  The 
poor  colored  men  are  very  grateful  and  so  anxious  to 
learn  it  is  very  touching.  There  is  one  colored  man 
dying  of  consumption.  His  great  longing  is  for  cake. 
I  take  him  some  every  day.  I  was  a  little  late  yester- 
day ;  he  asked  the  nurse  where  that  woman  was  who 
brought  the  cake  ?  She  told  him  I  was  coming,  and 
said,  "Which  do  you  like  the  best,  the  lady  or  the 
cake  1 "  Well,  he  said,  he  liked  the  cake  the  best.  We 
were  quite  amused  by  his  honesty.  I  have  been  busy 
to-day  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  and  to-night  am  tired,  as  I 
always  am  ;  but  then  I  sleep  well.  Two  of  my  nurses 
are  sick,  one  with  measles,  so  I  have  that  on  my  mind 
in  addition  to  my  other  cares.  Think  of  coming  eight 
hundred  miles  to  have  the  measles  in  a  hospital !  I 
dreamed  last  night  of  being  at  home  and  laying  my 
head  on  your  lap.  It  was  nice. 

I  think  my  poor  men  care  for  me,  and  perhaps  I 
shall  not  be  obliged  to  live  to  a  lonely  old  age ;  I  may 
be  allowed  to  pass  into  another  life  when  my  work  in 
this  way  is  done.  One  of  my  nurses  told  me,  the 
other  day,  that  she  had  a  young  brother  in  the  army, 
lie  was  at  the  taking  of  Fort  Donelson,  in  the  thickest 
of  the  fight,  his  comrades  falling  all  around  him  amidst 
a  perfect  hail  of  shot,  and  he  escaped  without  a 
scratch.  He  told  them  he  thought  then  that  it  was 
his  mother's  prayers  that  were  saving  him,  and  he 
believed  now  that  they  had  saved  him  all  through. 
Was  it  not  a  beautiful  thought  ? 


90  MEMOIR   OF 

Going  through  the  wards  the  other  evening,  I  saw  a 
man  who  appeared  to  be  in  trouble.  I  went  to  him. 
He  was  weeping  like  a  child  over  the  picture  of  his 
wife  and  babies.  Poor  fellow !  he  will-  have  many  a 
homesick  feeling  before  he  gets  through.  I  comforted 
him  as  well  as  I  could,  and  when  I  left  him  he  ap- 
peared to  feel  a  good  deal  better.  Home-sickness  is 
the  worst  sort  of  sickness. 


LETTER  XVIII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL. 
May  4,  1863. 

I  AM  busy  now  overseeing  and  teaching  new  nurses. 
Dr.  Russell  was  speaking  to  me  of  my  work,  the  other 
day,  and  said  how  great  the  responsibility  was ;  it  is 
something  I  have  to  answer  for  very  humbly  and  care- 
fully. The  Doctor  is  very  good,  and  very  much  beloved 
here.  I  like  his  strictness ;  it  is  right ;  but  it  obliges 
one  to  walk  very  carefully,  and  that  is  what  we  ought 
to  do. 

Yesterday,  I  sat  down  by  a  dying  man,  dying  of 
consumption,  and  read  to  him  a  beautiful  Psalm.  He 
enjoyed  it  very  much ;  he  always  does ;  he  wanted  me 
to  stay  with  him.  I  had  promised  to  go  with  one  of 
my  new  nurses  to  the  afternoon  meeting  here,  so  I 
went  back  to  him  after  it;  as  I  sat  by  him,  fanning 
him,  he  said  :  "  I  wish  I  could  go  to  meeting,  I  always 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  91 

liked  it."  He  will  soon  go  to  a  meeting  from  which  no 
bodily  infirmities  will  keep  him. 

My  cares  and  duties  gather  daily.  Every  day  I  see 
more  and  more  to  be  done  or  done  better  by  myself, 
more  duties  towards  others. 

The  men  are  some  of  them  very  pleasant,  giving  me 
a  kindly  welcome  as  I  go,  the  hand  put  out  to  take 
mine  as  I  come  to  them.  There  is  something  that 
goes  to  your  heart  in  those  rough,  worn  hands,  that 
have  carried  their  guns  through  many  a  hard  fight  for 
our  country,  and  are  right  ready  to  carry  them  again. 
No\v  they  are  worn  with  disease,  fighting  with  pain 
and  sorrow,  surely  we  ought  to  help  them  in  all  ways. 
I  am  going  now  on  my  evening  rounds ;  I  find  things 
to  attend  to  always. 

Evening.  I  have  been  round  the  wards,  reading  to 
some,  fixing  pillows  for  others,  seeing  that  nurses  are 
in  their  places.  I  went  into  one  large  ward,  of  which 
the  ward-master  is  a  very  nice  old  man,  and  found  the 
men  on  their  knees,  for  the  most  part,  and  the  ward- 
master  offering  up  prayer.  I  wish  you  had  been  there. 
A  sick  ward  is  at  all  times  of  night  a  peculiar  scene  — 
this  was  very  impressive.  I  shall  always  feel  better  in 
that  ward  ;  they  have  prayer  every  night.  This  morn- 
ing was  very  sultry  and  hot;  to-night  it  has  cooled  off, 
and  the  men  are  better.  .  .  . 

I  have  resumed  my  white  caps,  they  are  very  con- 
venient. I  heard  to-day  that  one  of  the  German 
soldiers  was  inquiring  who  that  lady  was,  —  "  she  wore 
a  little  white  cap,  looked  like  a  German,  and  spoke  to 


92 


MEMOIR   OF 


him  in  German."     I  am  afraid  he  was  disappointed 
when  he  found  I  was  not  a  country-woman. 


LETTER  XIX. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
May  10,  1863. 

The  bandages  are  in  xise,  some  of  them.  The  flannel 
shirts  are  more  useful  than  one  can  imagine  who  has 
not  seen  them  used  ;  so  many  of  the  men  have  chest 
and  side  pains,  leading  to  consumption.  I  think  if  the 
ladies  could  see  the  good  their  work  does,  it  would  be 
more  than  return  for  all  they  have  done.  It  did  my 
heart  good  to  take  out  the  nice  clean  articles  one  by 
one,  and  think  of  the  poor  suffering  forms  they  would 
render  more  comfortable  !  "  Oh  !  I  feel  better ! "  they 
say,  after  putting  on  a  good  flannel  shirt.  The  men 
who  have  come  to-night  are  quite  sick  ;  some  bad  cases, 
I  fear.  I  have  been  round  among  them.  ...  I  went 
after  their  arrival,  and  again  to-night.  They  got  here 
about  one  or  two  o'clock.  They  were  refreshed  by 
their  supper,  but  weak  and  weary.  You  have  no  idea 
how  our  soldiers  live.  I  am  so  accustomed  to  living 
among  them,  that  I  do  not  know  what  I  shall  do  when 
I  return  to  civil  life,  if  ever  I  do.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  I  shall  follow  the  army  for  a  profession. 

Tuesday.  —  I  am  afraid  the  preceding  letter  was 
rather  broken  up,  but  I  "was  dead  tired,  and  could 
hardly  write  at  all.  It  is  very  warm  here,  and  the 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  93 

heat  tires  one.  I  see  its  effects  on  the  men.  We  have 
about  nine  hundred  sick,  and  a  number  of  convales- 
cents besides,  whom  we  are  sending  away.  We  are 
expecting  to  fill  up  every  day  or  any  day.  This  place  is 
better  for  the  sick  than  the  city  ;  I  wish  you  could  see  it 
at  night.  It  is  a  curious  place,  — this  great  Coliseum 
building  lit  up,  and  all  the  smaller  ones,  as  I  go  about 
the  grounds  at  night,  all  alone  with  my  lantern.  It  has 
a  curious  effect ;  I  can  hardly  realize  it  all,  or  that  I  am 
at  the  West.  I  shall  never  love  any  place  as  I  do  the 
East.  I  wonder  how  Cambridge  is  looking.  I  must 
not  think  much  about  it,  there  grows  up  such  a  longing 
if  I  do,  and  I  could  not  enjoy  it  if  I  left  my  duty  to 
do  so.  ... 

My  dresses  were  very  acceptable,  I  am  so  hot.  The 
two  new  dresses  are  lovely ;  I  cut  one  out  this  after- 
noon. I  have  to  rest  a  little  sometimes,  for  my  feet 
pathetically  represent  that  they  are  made  of  flesh  and 
blood.  The  ginger  I  can  testify  to  from  personal  ex- 
perience. I  was  delighted  with  everything ;  I  kissed 
the  handiwork  of  my  friends.  When  I  looked  at  the 
hat,  it  looked  so  like  sister  Sabra  that  I  kissed  the 
bows  she  had  made. 

Tuesday.  —  I  have  come  in  from  my  night  patrol 
tired  and  wet,  so  I  have  put  on  a  dry  wrapper, 
and  am  ensconced  in  my  rocking-chair.  A  new  nurse 
came  to-day,  a  lady  about  forty.  Her  husband  is  off 
engineering,  or  something  like  it,  and  she  wanted 
to  do  something  for  the  soldiers ;  so  she  has  turned 
nurse.  . 


94  MEMOIR  OF 

The  window  shade  you  sent  me  is  going  to  one  of 
the  dining-rooms,  to  do  duty  as  table-cloth  !  I  made 
myself  a  short  cotton  shade. 


LETTER   XX. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
May,  14. 

DEAR  CARRIE,  — .  .  .  I  have  just  come  in  from  my 
night  rounds.  I  went  to  the  prayer-meeting  to-night ; 
it  was  very  interesting.  The  men  sing  well,  and  you 
should  hear  the  army  hymns  from  their  lips ;  they  are 
grand  sometimes.  To-night  there  were  present  two  of 
the  missionaries,  who  go  among  the  soldiers  to  teach 
them.  One  of  them  went  down  the  river  when  I  did ; 
he  used  to  hold  prayer-meetings  every  night.  They 
were  solemn  out  there  on  the  Mississippi,  passing  we 
knew  not  what  dangers,  and  going  to  meet  others.  I 
did  not  dare  tell  mother  when  I  went,  she  would  have 
been  so  anxious.  The  river  navigation  is  very  danger- 
ous in  some  parts  now,  and  probably  will  be  till  the 
war  is  over.  To  return  to  this  missionary,  —  he  gave 
an  account  of  his  last  trip  down  the  river.  I  will  give 
a  part  in  his  own  words. 

[There  follows  an  account  of  the  painful  and 
sometimes  perilous  experiences  of  this  and  other 
missionaries.  This  narrative  might  not  be  without 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  95 

its  own  interest,  but  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
writer's  work,  and  is  omitted.  The  letter  then 
goes  on.] 

I  tell  you  all  this,  Carrie,  because  I  want  you 
should  understand  the  many  sides  and  inner  life  of 
this  war.  Side  by  side  with  the  heroism  in  the  field 
that  we  read  of,  there  is  another  heroism,  grander, 
more  courageous,  working  for  eternity. 

The  men  want  to  be  told  these  things ;  they  care 
for  them,  ask  for  them.  I  was  reading  the  other  Sun- 
day morning  to  a  man  ;  when  I  had  finished,  one  at  a 
distance  beckoned  to  me.  I  asked  him  what  he  wanted. 
"  Won't  you  read  me  a  chapter,  too1?  "  I  read  to  him, 
too,  and  he  seemed  so  pleased.  They  are  dear,  good 
souls,  some  of  them.  One  very  sick  man  has  been 
very  low-spirited  lately.  Two  days  ago  his  wife  came 
to  see  him,  bringing  a  beautiful  little  daughter  he  had 
never  before  seen.  Oh,  he  was  so  happy  !  He  is  very 
weak  :  I  am  afraid  he  will  never  be  much  stronger. 
He  sits  on  the  side  of  his  bed,  holding  his  baby's  little 
hand  in  his,  and  the  wife  sits  and  looks  at  them  both. 
He  told  me  that  his  oldest  child  told  the  mother  not 
to  come  home  without  papa.  They  want  comforting 
in  many  ways.  I  have  such  a  curious  variety  of  cares  : 
all  sorts  of  things  are  continually  rising  to  the  surface 
like  bubbles,  and  I  am  expected  to  settle  all.  I  keep 
clear  of  all  cliques  and  intimacies,  —  it  is .  lonesome, 
but  necessary ;  for  I  must  take  sides  from  feeling,  no- 
where. Some  things  are  rather  puzzling  to  deal  with. 


96  MEMOIR   OF 

I  think  I  shall  have  some  idea  of  character  when  I  am 
through  with  this  work. 

It  is  a  life  of  hard  work,  and  uncertain  work  :  you 
never  know  one  week  where  you  may  be  sent  the  next. 
I  have  gone  wherever  I  was  asked  since  I  came  here, 
and  nearly  killed  myself,  —  though  I  do  not  mind 
that,  — and  now  if  I  get  my  strength  back,  I  shall 
keep  where  I  can  use  it,  and  not,  by  getting  sick, 
become  of  no  use  or  comfort  to  anybody.  We  must 
have  our  bodies  in  good  order,  if  we  want  to  do  for 
others.  I  bought  myself  a  passion-flower  the  other  day 
and  have  trained  it  up  by  my  window ;  it  makes  me 
think  of  home.  I  can  hardly  realize  the  quiet  state  of 
Cambridge.  The  excitement  here  about  Vicksburg 
and  the  river  news  is  very  great.  If  there  is  much 
fighting  at  Vicksburg,  it  will  fill  up  the  hospitals,  and 
we  shall  have  our  hands  filled  with  work.  Tell  mother 
she  must  tell  the  ladies  the  men  ai*e  delighted  with 
their  dressing-gowns.  I  give  them  £o  the  sickest,  and 
they  wrap  themselves  up  in  them  so  comfortably ! 


LETTER  XXL 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
June  5,  1863. 

I  am  rather  busy  now  ;  I  have  to  look  after  refugees, 
contrabands,  soldiers,  both  black  and  white,  and  keep  my 
senses.  I  have  no  immense  work  to  perform,  but  many 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  97 

duties,  and  I  hope  and  pray  that  I  shall  perform  them  in 
the  right  spirit  and  faithfully.  The  comfort  of  many 
depends  in  a  great  degree  upon  me.  I  wish  I  had  a 
little  stronger  body,  that  I  was  a  small  Hercules  for 
instance.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  face  of  one 
poor  white  soldier  as  I  was  bathing  him  the  other  day. 
I  do  get  such  sweet  words  and  looks  sometimes.  The 
world  may  not  think  I  do  much  here,  but  the  poor 
men  like  to  have  me  round.  .  .  .  Dr.  Russell  takes  care 
of  me,  that  is,  all  he  can ;  work  I  must.  The  ther- 
mometer is  rapidly  rising.  I  do  not  think  above  90 
yet,  but  there  is  a  prospect  of  tolerably  warm  weather. 


LETTER  XXII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
June  7,  1863. 

DARLING  MOTHER,  —  I  got  as  far  as  the  above,  and 
now,  June  11,  am  going  on  with  the  letter.  I  received 
yours  of  June  2.  I  was  so  glad  to  get  it,  I  wish 
there  was  more  of  it ;  and  yet  I  do  not  know  that  any 
amount  would  satisfy  me.  I  have  been  very  busy 
lately.  The  demand  for  nurses  is  on  the  increase,  I 
have  written  to  some,  and  shall  write  to  more,  under 
Dr.  Russell's  orders.  We  shall  want  surgical  nurses  : 
one  of  our  best  nurses  is  going  down  the  river.  The 
excitement  here  is  very  great ;  I  shall  be  glad  when 
Vicksburg  is  taken,  and  this  terrible  news  of  battle  is 

7 


98  MEMOIR   OF 

over.  The  amount  of  wounded  is  already  very  great, 
by  and  by  they  will  be  coming  up  the  river.  .  .  . 
It  only  takes  a  little  time  to  order  meals,  and  we 
now  live  very  comfortably  ;  I  take  my  meals  alone,  at 
a  later  hour  than  the  nurses ;  they  breakfast  at  six,  I 
at  seven,  after  I  am  through  my  morning  first  round  • 
they  dine  at  twelve,  I  at  one ;  they  take  tea  at  four,  I 
at  six,  after  my  afternoon  walk  of  inspection.  All 
our  nurses  are  ladies.  I  do  not  believe  it  would  be 
easy  to  find  such  a  set  of  nurses  in  any  other  hospital 
I  have  to  keep  careful  watch  over  every  one  of  the 
nurses,  as  I  am  responsible  for  them,  and  a  good  deal 
it  involves.  I  have  to  look  in  many  different  directions. 
There  are  not  many  patients  here  now  ;  they  are  being 
drafted  off  to  make  room  for  the  sick  and  wounded 
when  they  come ;  those  here  being  most  of  them 
convalescents.  We  have  a  lesser  round  building,  called 
the  rotunda,  which  will  be  for  surgical  cases,  as  also 
will  some  other  wards.  These  great  buildings  are 
called  wards,  then  subdivided  into  divisions,  and  nurses 
assigned  to  each  division.  They  will  hold  a  great 
number  of  men. 

Sunday  afternoon.  I  have  just  come  from  Com- 
munion. It  was  given  in  the  rotunda,  now  used  as  a 
chapel.  It  was  all  very  plain,  and  somehow,  from 
that  very  reason,  made  me  think  more  of  that  "  upper 
chamber "  so  many  hundred  years  ago  in  Jerusalem. 
There  were  soldiers  and  women  present,  weary  men, 
some  just  able  to  walk  in,  all  intent  on  the  solemn 
occasion.  I  saw  one  man  walk  in  leaning  on  his  cane, 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  99 

and  wrapped  up  in  one  of  the  comfortable  wrappers 
you  ladies  sent  him  and  others.  I  was  glad  to  see  him 
there ;  a  month  ago  he  was  next  to  death.  Some  time 
since,  one  poor  fellow  got  his  discharge ;  he  was  far 
gone  in  consumption,  he  had  been  wearing  one  of  those 
wrappers  and  seemed  to  enjoy  it  very  much ;  I  told  him 
he  might  take  it  home  with  him ;  he  was  poor  and  will 
be  very  thankful  to  have  something  comfortable  to  wear 
as  he  sinks  away  in  the  disease  he  caiight  while  fight- 
ing for  his  country.  I  hope  to  have  more  nurses  in 
soon,  before  the  sick  and  wounded  come  up  the  river ; 
we  shall  be  full  then  ;  our  hands  will  have  enough  to  do. 
We  send  off  all  that  we  can  to  convalescent  places  and 
camps.  One  ward  has  decreased  from  one  hundred 
and  thirty-seven  to  thirty-five  or  six  patients,  I  tell  the 
nurses  it  is  only  resting  time  and  they  must  make 
the  most  of  it.  They  are  not  allowed  to  go  out  of 
the  grounds  without  my  permission.  Two  of  them 
came  to  me  just  now,  and  I  sent  them  off  to  walk  in  the 
woods ;  a  little  while  after  over  came  another,  with  a 
friend,  to  know  if  she  might  go.  I  hope  they  will  have 
a  good  time  :  it  is  a  lovely  evening. 

The  other  evening  I  attended  a  prayer-meeting  and 
was  very  much  interested.  One  of  the  speakers  took 
for  his  theme  the  necessity  of  coming  to  Jesus  now, 
and  illustrated  it  very  forcibly.  Many  of  the  men 
present  were  under  marching  orders  and  will  soon  be 
before  the  enemy.  The  preacher  specially  addressed 
them,  reminded  them  that  it  was  the  last  time  they 
would  stand  there  :  would  they  go  into  the  field  and  not 


100  MEMOIR   OF 

take  Jesus  with  them  ]  He  asked,  what  would  they 
do  without  him  there,  sick  or  wounded,  or  passing  for~ 
ever  into  another  life  ;  where  would  they  go  in  that  life 
if  they  did  not  take  Him  with  them  in  this  life  and 
follow  His  commandments  by  leaving  off  all  sinful  ways 
and  turning  to  Him.  One  feels  a  good  deal  when 
seeing  men  thus  addressed  who  are  going  off  to  the 
battle-field.  I  tell  you,  mother,  we  realize  war  out 
here  :  it  is  at  our  door.  I  have  been  very  much  inter- 
ested in  one  of  the  wards  here.  Back  of  this  house  I 
live  in  is  a  ward  consisting  of  two  long  rooms  :  it  is  the 
erysipelas  ward.  When  there  is  a  bad  case  of  that 
kind  it  is  sent  here,  and  the  disease  is  held  in  great 
horror  by  many  who  fear  taking  it.  When  Dr.  Russell 
came  here  in  early  spring,  these  patients  were  scattered 
about  in  out-rooms  and  not  properly  cared  for  ;  he  had 
these  two  rooms,  which  were  barracks,  turned  into  the 
erysipelas  ward.  There  was  no  woman  in  there  to 
keep  things  nice  ;  no  one  hardly  would  go  in  or  near  it ; 
it  was  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  Botany  Bay  among  the 
wards.  I  went  in  after  I  had  been  here  a  while  and 
got  my  duties  under  head-way  elsewhere.  I  found  the 
wards  dirty:  no  whitewash,  old  wooden  bunks,  mattresses 
that  had  not  been  changed  for  a  long  time ;  everything 
requiring  renovation.  I  passed  some  time  there,  then 
went  over  and  asked  the  Doctor  to  let  me  have  the  ward 
arranged  like  the  other  wards.  He  told  me  it  would  not 
do  to  order  one  of  the  lady  nurses  there  ;  I  told  him, 
"  no,  but  I  could  go  myself.".  He  asked  if  I  did  not  fear 
taking  it,  I  told  him  if  there  was  risk  it  was  already 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  101 

run,  for  I  had  passed  about  two  hours  over  the  worst 
cases.  He  laughed  and  finally  gave  me  permission  to 
go  in  and  do  whatever  I  pleased ;  did  n't  I  go  !  I  found 
a  German  Doctor  who  did  not  understand  neatness, 
and  who  was  going  away ;  I  waited  till  he  went,  then  a 
skilful  Doctor  possessed  of  Yankee  neatness  joined 
forces  with  me  and  in  we  went. 

We  revolutionized  the  place.  We  got  in  an  army  of 
whitewashers,  for  lime  is  a  disinfectant ;  while  the  new 
Doctor  superintended  whitewashers,  I  went  to  the  head 
surgeon,  and  asked  for  clean  furniture  :  he  kept  his 
word  and  said  I  should  have  it.  So,  going  from  one 
place  to  another,  I  got  in  iron  bedsteads,  new  mattresses, 
pillows,  bed  furniture,  mosquito  nettings;  had  the 
tables  and  cupboards  washed  ;  lime  was  put  in  boxes  on 
the  floor ;  the  Doctor  had  the  beds  arranged  in  two  files, 
each  side  of  the  room,  two  feet  from  the  wall,  so  that 
every  part  of  the  floor  is  exposed  and  there  is  no  ex- 
cuse for  not  washing  every  part ;  everything  is  now  as 
clean  and  nice  as  any  other  ward,  walls  and  ceiling  white- 
washed, the  floor  clean,  and  order  generally.  The 
next  thing  I  wanted  was  a  lady  nurse  ;  I  could  not  order 
one  there ;  so  I  kept  on  superintending  myself,  but  that 
was  not  enough.  I  longed  for  a  volunteer  nurse  ;  I  con- 
cluded at  last,  if  one  did  not  present  herself,  I  would 
pray  for  one.  I  went  over  to  the  wards  in  that  state 
of  mind,  and  one  of  my  best  nurses  informed  me  she 
should  like  to  take  the  ward  !  I  brought  her  over,  in- 
stalled her,  and  she  says  she  is  happy.  The  men  are  so 
glad  to  have  a  woman  about  all  the  time.  Yesterday 


102  MEMOIR   OF 

they  dressed  their  ward  up  with  evergreens  and  im- 
proved it  very  much.  As  the  ward  nurse  informed  me 
last  night,  it  is  go"iug  to  look  as  well  as  other  places. 
I  look  upon  the  nurse  of  that  ward  as  a  heroine  ;  I  wish 
I  had  time  to  tell  you  all  she  has  done  elsewhere.  Her 
name  is  Miss  Melceuia  Elliott.  I  am  using  the  money 
Mr.  S.  sent  me  to  buy  fruit  for  this  ward  ;  they  need  it 
very  much,  and  it  is  doing  them  a  great  deal  of  good. 
I  take  all  the  flowers  I  can  get  to  this  ward  :  they  make 
the  air  so  pleasant.  I  would  write  better;  but  it  makes 
my  eyes  ache,  so  I  cannot.  It  is  very  hot  here,  but 
we  have  the  Mississippi ;  my  respect  for  this  useful 
stream  increases  daily.  There  was  an  octagonal  house 
here  of  one  room,  lately  vacated,  I  asked  the  Doctor 
what  he  was  going  to  do  with  it ;  he  told  me  he  would 
give  it  to  me,  and  I  should  have  it  for  myself,  if  I 
wanted  it ;  I  suggested  that  it  would  make  a  good  par- 
lor for  the  lady  nurses  to  see  their  visitors  in.  The 
Doctor  liked  the  idea,  and  said  it  should  be  done  ;  it  is 
doing  and  will  make  them  a  very  pretty  room.  Love 
to  all,  and  hope  that  I  may  be  able  to  go  on. 


LETTER   XXIII. 


BEXTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL. 
June  15. 


DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  finished  one  letter  to  you  yester- 
day afternoon,  and  am  going  to  begin  another.  We 
had  a  funny  scene  in  one  of  the  wards  last  week.  One 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  103 

of  the  orderlies  came  over  in  great  haste  for  the  Doctor 
of  the  ward ;  he  was  not  in,  so  over  I  went  as  fast  as  I 
could.  Lucky  I  did ;  I  found  the  man  on  his  bed,  he 
averring  he  felt  as  if  he  had  a  fish-bone  in  his  throat, 
the  nurses  insisting  he  had  diphtheria,  on  the  strength 
of  which  they  were  wrapping  the  throat  in  flannel  and 
preparing  a  hot  foot-bath.  I  did  not  see  any  signs  of 
diphtheria,  but  there  were  signs  of  choking.  I  sent  for 
another  surgeon ;  he  came ;  had  the  man  put  by  the 
window-light,  and  pulled  out  a  fish-bone,  tightly  bedded 
in  his  throat.  Would  not  the  foot-bath  have  been 
beneficial  ?  Neither  the  Doctor  nor  I  could  help  hav- 
ing a  hearty  laugh. 

I  like  being  here,  it  is  very  pleasant  now.  I  hope 
I  shall  have  strength  to  continue  and  wisdom  to  do 
right. 

Wednesday.  We  are  impatient  for  our  new  patients. 
Nine  hundred  sick  and  wounded  were  carried  to  Jef- 
ferson Barracks,  twelve  miles  below  the  city,  this  week. 
Our  turn  will  come  next  I  suppose. 

It  is  play-time  just  now,  compared  with  what  hos- 
pital life  usually  is ;  though  a  person  unaccustomed  to 
it  would  think  we  had  plenty  to  do.  In  one  of  the 
wards,  the  nurses  went  to  work  and  made  a  handsome 
flag,  which  was  hung  with  appropriate  ceremonies,  and 
a  speech  from  the  surgeon  of  the  ward.  One  ward  has 
got  a  new  design  of  evergreen  ornaments,  large  stars ; 
they  are  very  pretty.  They  have  great  pleasure  in 
fixing  up  their  wards  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  some  not  in 
particularly  good  taste.  I  have  a  new  attache,  a  white 


104  MEMOIR   OF 

poodle,  belonging  to  the  cook  of  the  nurses'  dining- 
house.  Poodle  has  thought  proper  to  become  attached 
to  me. 

I  wish  Sabra  would  go  to  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital  and  see  Mrs.  Mudgett,  give  her  my  love,  and 
ask  how  she  does ;  then  write  and  let  me  know ;  also 
tell  me  how  Joanna  Welsh  is,  and  remember  me  to  her. 

Some  of  the  men  here  are  quite  sick,  some  dying. 
There  will  be  plenty  of  that  by  and  by,  I  fear.  I 
shall  be  glad  when  I,  too,  am  called  home,  but  I  want 
to  be  of  use  while  I  stay.  I  wonder  whether  I  shall 
ever  sleep  in  my  blue  room  again. 


LETTER   XXIV. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL. 
June  21,  1863. 

YESTERDAY  we  received  a  number  of  men  from 
Memphis  —  poor,  sick,  and  wounded  fellows.  We  are 
booked  for  a  thousand  more,  I  suppose,  from  down  the 
river.  I  went  from  man  to  man,  to  see  that  they  were 
provided  for,  had  something  to  eat,  &c.  One  poor 
fellow  was  utterly  forlorn,  too  sober  and  sick  to  eat ; 
I  got  for  him  a  mug  of  milk,  crumbed  a  cracker  in  it, 
fixed  him  up  in  bed  on  a  rest,  and  got  him  to  eat. 
When  he  was  all  arranged,  he  looked  up  and  said, 
"  This  is  the  best  place  1  have  seen  since  I  left  home." 
And  he  was  but  one  of  many  I  had  to  go  to  in  the 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PAKSOXS.  105 

same  way.  Two  poor  fellows  had  their  jaws  shattered 
by  shot ;  they  could  not  eat,  and  I  had  some  mutton 
soup  for  them ;  they  were  so  glad  of  it :  and  so  on 
from  one  to  another.  As  I  went  my  rounds  among 
them  this  morning,  I  stopped  to  ask  one  man  how  he 
did ;  he  wanted  to  show  me  the  picture  of  his  wife. 
"  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  money  would  not  buy  that  of  me  ! " 
Then  he  told  me  he  had  something  more  to  show  me, 
and  took  out  a  card  with  eight  braided  rings  of  hair, 
his  wife's  and  seven  children.  I  told  him  I  guessed  he 
was  glad  when  they  sent  him  that.  "  Was  n't  I ! "  and 
such  a  look  at  it. 

I  wish  you  could  see  the  hospital  now,  it  is  lovely ; 
there  is  a  pretty  fountain  playing  before  the  entrance, 
and  such  trees,  and  hardly  any  caterpillars.  I  told 
the  Doctor  I  did  not  care  for  the  thermometer  as  long 
as  the  latter  did  not  appear. 

You  have  no  idea  of  the  difficulty  of  keeping  disci 
pline  in  this  place  with  all  these  women.  I  think  some- 
times of — I  won't  say  what.  I  am  obliged  to  keep  a 
firm  hand  everywhere,  and  a  quiet  one  too.  It  is 
sometimes  the  most  wearisome  part  of  the  work,  and  I 
shall  probably  have  between  thirty  and  forty  soon. 
I  have  hitherto  found  it  as  much  as  I  could  do  to 
manage  one  woman. 

Please  write  me  more  and  oftener,  it  is  all  I  have. 
Love  to  all. 


106  MEMOIR   OF 


LETTER  XXV. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL. 
June  24,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER, — I  sent  off  a  letter  to  you  this  week, 
do  you  want  another1?  I  thought  of  writing  last  even- 
ing when  I  came  in  from  my  rounds,  but  I  was  too 
sleepy.  I  little  thought,  when  I  inspected  my  ward 
at  Fort  S.,  how  many  I  should  have  to  look  after.  We 
are  still  expecting  patients  from  down  the  river.  They 
cannot  come  up  quite  as  fast  as  we  wish  they  could. 
I  only  hope  I  shall  have  nurses  enough  when  they  come. 
I  have  just  been  on  my  afternoon  rounds.  There  are 
some  very  sick  men  here.  One  man  had  a  bad  attack 
of  chills  and  fever.  I  ordered  him  a  flannel  shirt.  He 
did  not  want  it  next  his  skin,  but  I  insisted,  and  he 
was  shirted.  I  could  not  have  him  sick.  Then  others 
had  to  have  on  thin  flannel  shirts  and  bandages.  The 
last  are  necessary  and  very  useful,  in  chronic  troubles. 
I  went  to  the  city  on  Monday,  I  think  I  told  you.  I 
have  been  eating  black  raspberries  lately ;  did  you 
ever  see  any  ?  They  are  very  good,  though  not  so 
delicate  as  the  red.  Some  of  these  poor  fellows  are 
very  forlorn  ;  homesick,  and  cannot  get  home. 

Thursday.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  exactly  how  I  make 
my  rounds  1  I  start  in  the  morning  early,  and  see  how 
the  breakfasts  come  up,  and  if  they  are  properly  cooked, 
and  sufficient  in  quantity.  .Those  of  the  men  who  are 
convalescents  eat  in  the  dining-room  of  the  wai-d,  then 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  107 

the  sicker  ones  are  on  what  is  called  special  diet,  that 
is,  articles  of  food  specified  for  each  man,  and  adapted 
to  his  particular  case.  The  nurses  have  the  charge  of  giv- 
ing it  out.  I  see  that  they  are  doing  it  properly.  Then 
I  eat  my  own  breakfast,  for  which  I  am  quite  ready. 
After  breakfast,  I  put  my  room  in  order.  I  am  obliged 
to  do  all  my  own  chamber-work ;  we  all  are.  Then 
out  I  go  again.  I  for  a  particular  inspection  of  pa- 
tients, —  whether  they  are  taken  proper  care  of  by  the 
nurses,  need  any  nourishment  they  have  not  had,  flan- 
nel bandages,  or  chest-pieces,  or  shirts  (as  particular 
cases  of  illness  come  on,  they  need  a  different  style  of 
wrapping),  look  after  my  nurses,  and  see  to  a  few 
other  little  matters.  Then  other  things  are  apt  to 
come  up,  if  there  is  much  to  be  attended  to,  keeping 
me  busy  till  dinner-time.  After  dinner,  I  generally 
rest  a  little  while ;  when  the  wards  are  filled  up,  I  do 
not  suppose  I  shall  be  able  to  do  so.  Then  out  again 
into  the  wards,  looking  after  all  sorts  of  things,  suppers 
included.  Then  my  own  supper,  then  out  into  the 
wai'ds  again ;  a  little  later,  looking  after  night  nurses, 
seeing  that  the  sickest  have  their  drink  for  the  night, 
enough  pillows  to  rest  their  heads  upon,  and  the  wards 
properly  ventilated.  When  all  is  done,  I  feel  like  going 
to  bed.  My  bed  is  a  straw  one,  and  none  of  the  softest, 
but  I  am  quite  oblivious  of  the  fact ;  I  could  sleep  on 
the  soft  side  of  a  plank.  I  had  some  blackberries 
brought  me  to-day  for  the  sick.  I  never  tasted  any  so 
nice  ;  this  hot  southern  sun  ripens  them  to  perfection  ; 
the  sick  were  very  glad  of  them.  I  have  had  more 


108  MEMOIR   OF 

money  given  me  to  purchase  fruit  for  the  sick.  I  wish 
you  good  people  at  the  East  would  send  us  some  green 
eye-shades  :  they  are  very  much  wanted.  I  made  my 
rounds  last  night  after  the  lamps  were  down ;  I  had 
to  see  after  sundry  things,  —  ventilation,  night  drinks, 
&c.  You  have  no  idea  what  curious  places  these 
immense  wards  are  at  night ;  they  look  even  larger 
than  in  the  day-time ;  they  are  more  like  something 
you  dream  of  than  anything  you  would  expect  to  meet. 
As  I  go  up  and  down  among  the  rows  of  beds,  looking  af- 
ter the  sick,  I  see  so  much  patient  suffering,  pain  quietly 
borne  that  a  neighbor  may  not  be  disturbed,  comforts 
done  without,  lest  the  asking  should  disturb  some  one. 
It  is  one  of  my  duties  to  see  that  they  have  these 
without  the  trouble  of  asking.  I  gave  one  of  Mr.  Sil- 
ver's tracts  to  a  soldier  who  had  lost  his  arm ;  I  hope 
he  will  like  it.  One  of  the  surgeons  went  in  a  great 
hurry  to  Memphis  to  take  care  of  the  wounded.  As  I 
was  helping  him  pack,  I  gave  him  a  packet  of  the 
tracts,  and  asked  him  to  distribute  them  among  the 
soldiers.  He  said  he  would. 

Saturday.  The  sick  and  wounded  are  at  the  city ; 
our  ambulances  have  gone  in  to  bring  them  out.  I 
must  go  over  to  the  wards  to  see  that  all  things  are  in 
readiness  for  them. 

I  have  been  in  the  wards.  It  is  now  nearly  half- 
past  five.  The  wards  are  ready.  I  have  assigned  the 
nurses  their  quarters,  seen  about  the  moving  of  some 
of  the  men,  to  the  rolling  o"f  bandages  (my  roller  comes 
into  use  now),  also  sending  fans  I  got  from  the  Sani- 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  109 

tary  Commission  to  the  different  wards,  and  so  on, 
with  odds  and  ends.  I  have  been  on  the  move  nearly  all 
day.  I  am  very  tired,  for  it  is  very  hot.  I  came  home 
to  take  a  foot-bath,  and  am  going  out  again  in  a  few 
minutes. 

This  morning  I  was  a  little  amused.  I  was  just  going 
home  to  rest  a  little  before  dinner,  when  one  of  my 
nurses  came  to  me  to  say  that  one  of  the  men  in  her 
ward  had  a  bad  nose-bleed.  They  could  not  stop  it : 
what  should  be  done  ?  I  went  over,  applied  the  proper 
remedies,  and  stopped  the  bleeding.  He  had  a  black 
silk  string  tied  round  his  little  finger  to  stop  it !  I 
wonder  what  I  shall  hear  of  next. 

Sunday  afternoon.  The  sick  have  not  come  yet. 
The  boat  they  were  on  was  passed  in  the  night  by  the 
"  Minnehaha,"  who  reported  she  would  be  in  about  ten 
or  twelve  ;  so  our  a*nbulauees  went  in,  but  have  not  yet 
come  out.  It  must  be  a  terrible  day  for  the  sick.  It 
is  very  hot.  We  are  ready  for  them  —  nurses  at  their 
posts.  Last  night,  as  I  had  finished  my  rounds,  there 
came  along  a  woman  and  her  baby,  after  nine  at  night. 
She  had  just  arrived,  and  was  in  search  of  her  hus- 
band, who  was  among  the  lately-arrived  sick.  The 
clerk  looked  over  the  register,  and  found  out  where  he 
was,  sent  her  round,  and  he  was  woke  by  his  wife  and 
child  !  This  morning  I  found  him  with  his  baby  in 
his  arms,  trying  to  teach  it  to  put  its  arms  around  his 
neck,  the  mother  looking  on.  It  is  very  hot  here,  and 
my  room  is  very  hot.  The  Doctor  talks  of  moving  me 
over  to  the  cottage  where  he  lives.  There  is  a  large,  cool 


110  MEMOIR  OF 

room  there  which  he  says  belongs  to  me,  in  my  charac- 
ter of  supervisor.  I  want  a  smaller  room  in  the  nurses 
dining-house,  as  I  think  it  more  convenient.  I  tell 
him  it  would  be  big  enough,  as  neither  I  nor  my  dig- 
nity are  immense ;  he  laughed,  and  held  his  own  opin- 
ion. Where  he  will  put  me  I  do  not  know.  He  seems 
to  intend  taking  good  care  of  me.  I  do  wish  the  sick 
would  come,  it  is  so  much  easier  to  make  them  com- 
fortable when  they  come  in  the  daytime  than  when 
they  come  at  night.  They  will  be  glad  of  a  good, 
clean  bath-room,  clean  clothes,  and  beds.  They  are  so 
glad  to  escape  the  jar  of  the  beds  in  the  boat.  The 
engine  shakes  them  very  painfully. 

They  have  been  making  a  flag  in  another  ward  this 
last  week.  It  is  a  very  handsome  large  one,  has  been 
hung  in  the  middle  of  the  ward.  It  was  fii'st  hung  out 
of  the  window,  that  the  world  outside  might  know  that 
they  had  such  a  thing.  I  found  a  man  fairly  sinking 
under  home-sickness.  He  said  he  did  not  want  a  dis- 
charge, only  a  furlough  that  he  might  see  his  wife  and 
children.  I  represented  his  case  to  the  Doctor.  Ho 
said  if  the  man  could  get  well  enough  to  do  some  light 
work  out-doors,  so  that  he  could  be  sent  into  the  in- 
valid brigade,  he  could  have  a  furlough  ;  so  I  went 
round  to  the  man,  told  him  about  it ;  he  has  been 
mending  ever  since,  and  tells  me  he  is  now  able  to  do 
some  light  work.  So  I  am  to  report  him  to  the  Doctor 
accordingly. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PAESONS.  Ill 


LETTER  XXVI. 

BEXTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
July  3. 

DEAR  MOTHER, —  Our  sick  men  came  on  Monday,  and 
glad  they  were  to  come, — four  hundred  and  sixteen; 
then  some  more  since,  soon  many  more.  I  went  round 
among  them  looking  after  their  comfort  as  well  as  I 
could.  They  were  from  Vicksburg  and  Milliken's 
Bend ;  they  had  not  seen  a  woman  for  a  long  time, 
some  of  them.  As  I  bent  over  one  he  said  "  It  is  a 
long  time  since  a  lady  had  her  hand  on  me."  He 
seemed  so  glad  to  be  spoken  to,  and  so  were  they  all. 
You  cannot  think  how  touching  it  was  to  see  them 
watch  for  a  greeting  and  a  touch  of  the  hand.  The 
men  who  were  bearing  pain  without  murmur  would 
look  up  with  a  lip  quivering  like  a  child's  and  eyes  full 
of  tears.  My  nurses  were  all  ready  at  their  posts ;  as 
one  of  them  bent  over  a  sick  man  he  caught  her  hand 
and  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  and  they  all  had  some  way 
of  showing  how  gladly  they  felt  the  womanly  sphere 
around  them.  As  I  stop  to  speak  to  one.  I  see  the 
heads  of  the  others  turning  and  watching  me,  waiting 
till  they  are  spoken  to.  They  are  very  shy  of  claiming 
notice,  sit  very  gravely  till  I  speak,  then  the  whole  face 
lights  up,  and  the  rough  worn  hands  are  held  out.  I  have 
a  peculiar  feeling  about  the  hands  that  have  bravely 
carried  a  musket  for  the  old  flag.  And  the  wounded  too, 
— you  cannot  help  feeling  differently  about  such  wounds 


112  MEMOIR   OF 

from  any  others.  One  of  them  had  a  badly  wounded 
hand.  I  told  him  he  would  be  very  proud  of  it  by  and 
by,  "  Yes,  indeed  !  "  was  the  reply.  They  most  of 
them  have  pictures  of  wives  or  children  or  some  one 
as  dear.  They  like  to  show  them  to  me.  Many  of  the 
new-comers  found  friends  here,  and  there  were  many 
greetings  among  them.  The  men  are  very  patient. 
Dr.  Russell  told  me,  that  once  off  in  Arkansas,  as  he 
was  taking  care  of  the  wounded  after  a  battle,  he  came 
upon  one  terribly  wounded  ;  he  remarked  to  him,  "  This 
is  a  hard  case,  my  dear  brother,"  "Yes,"  said  the 
soldier,  "but — pointing  upwards — it  is  all  right  up 
there."  There  is  a  great  deal  of  that  feeling  among  the 
men.  I  asked  a  boy  the  other  night,  if  he  remembered 
to  say  "  Our  Father "  every  night  as  he  did  to  his 
mother  at  home.  He  replied  "Yes,  ma'am,"  with  such 
a  pleasant  smile.  I  wish  his  mother  could  have  heard 
and  seen  him. 

It  is  evening;  I  have  just  come  in  from  my  night 
rounds ;  there  is  a  thunder-storm,  but  I  cannot  stay 
at  home  for  thunder-storms.  Excuse  my  writing, 
my  eyes  are  tired,  and  I  must  write  when  I  can. 
To-morrow  there  is  to  be  a  great  celebration  for  the 
soldiers,  in  honor  of  the  Fourth.  The  ladies  of  St. 
Louis  have  got  it  up  ;  I  hope  the  poor  fellows  will  enjoy 
it,  but  many  are  too  sick  to  do  so,  and  I  must  endeavor 
to  comfort  them  up.  There  is  to  be  a  dinner,  &c.  ;  this 
rain  will  cool  off  the  weather  and  lay  the  dust  very 
conveniently.  It  is  hot  here.  I  asked  the  Doctor  the 
other  day,  if  the  ladies  could  have  a  bath-room  for 


EMILY   ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  113 

themselves.  He  offered  me  the  vise  of  one  in  the  rear 
of  the  office.  I  thankfully  accepted,  to-day  I  made  use 
of  it ;  though  the  water  was  muddy  it  was  cool :  oh, 
how  I  did  enjoy  it !  I  took  the  ladies  round  wheu 
they  were  at  leisure,  and  they  were  very  much  pleased. 
The  wards  have  very  fine  bath-rooms  for  the  soldiers ; 
it  is  a  great  luxury  ;  my  respect  for  the  Mississippi  in- 
creases daily.  When  new  patients  come,  it  is  the  rule 
that  they  must  take  a  bath  before  they  put  on  their 
clean  clothes  ;  then  each  man  has  a  clean  shirt  and 
drawers  and  socks,  and  can  go  to  bed  or  sit  up  as  he 
pleases.  The  poor  fellows  come  out  of  the  boat  so 
dirty  and  weary,  they  look  like  new  beings  when 
they  are  refreshed  by  their  baths  and  good  food,  and  it 
is  so  pleasant  for  them  to  be  released  from  the  crowded 
boat  jarring  on  their  poor  nerves,  hot  and  unavoidably 
dirty.  No  one  who  has  not  been  on  a  hospital  boat  in 
care  of  the  sick  can  imagine  what  it  is.  It  is  the  most 
arduous  of  all  the  forms  of  nursing,  in  every  respect. 


LETTER  XXVII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
July  4. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  This  is  to  go  with  my  two  other 

sheets.     This  morning  out  came  the  ladies  to  see  about 

their  dinner.     The  great  rotunda  by  the  side  of  the 

amphitheatre  was  for  the  soldiers  from  a  distance,  from 

8 


114  MEMOIR  OF 

other  hospitals  and  camps  ;  our  own  soldiers  had  their 
dinner  in  the  dining-rooms  of  their  wards ;  the  ladies 
setting  the  tables  and  waiting  upon  them ;  each  set  of 
ladies  had  a  ward  assigned  to  them.  The  tables  were 
very  nicely  set,  flowers  in  the  midst ;  one  vase  had  a 
great  pyramidal  spray  of  yucca ;  it  took  me  straight 
home.  Oh  !  yon  cannot  think  what  a  longing  comes 
over  me  sometimes  to  go  over  the  house  and  garden 
and  see  yon  all.  I  cannot  allow  myself  to  dwell  upon 
it :  it  would  unsettle  me.  I  shall  stay  here  while  I  am 
wanted  and  can  be  of  use.  When  that  is  no  longer 
the  case,  I  will  try  to  find  work  somewhere  else.  It 
is  not  so  much  matter  where  you  work,  as  how  you 
work. 

But  to  go  back  to  the  soldiers.  Their  tables  were 
covered  with  good  things  ;  there  were  hundreds  and 
hundreds  of  men  fed  at  them,  and  all  seemed  pleased. 
After  dinner  there  was  speaking  from  a  stand  in  the 
large  grove,  and  singing.  Finally  the  different  detach, 
ments  formed  into  order  and  marched  to  their  hospital 
homes  and  camps.  One  man  just  off  a  bed  of  severe 
sickness,  told  me  he  had  never  missed  a  Fourth  of  July 
in  his  life  and  he  must  go.  I  told  him  I  thought  it 
would  do  him  good,  and  he  went.  One  of  our  old 
patients,  a  German,  seemed  very  glad  to  see  me  ;  when 
I  bade  him  good-by  he  took  my  hand  and  kissed  it. 
I  used  to  pay  him  a  good  deal  of  attention  when  he 
was  here.  The  old  men  and  boys  touch  me  the  most. 
I  should  like  to  have  you  see  this  place  in  early  morn- 
ing :  it  is  beautiful.  Very  hot,  but  I  find  I  can  survive 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  115 

it  very  well.     Everybody  tried  to  frighten  me,  but  I 
do  not  approve  of  that  kind  of  soldiering. 


LETTER   XXVIII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
July  5,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  posted  a  letter  for  you  yesterday, 
telling  you  about  our  Fourth.  It  does  not  seem  to 
have  hurt  anybody  here.  Mr.  Burnell,  the  army  mis- 
sionary, who  was  on  the  boat  when  I  went  to  Vicksburg, 
came  to  see  me  this  morning.  While  talking  with  me 
he  took  up  a  copy  of  Mr.  Silver's  tract ;  he  looked  at 
it,  and  asked  me  if  there  were  many  of  them  printed. 
I  told  him  that  was  the  last  I  had,  and  gave  it  to  him. 
He  knew  before  that  I  was  a  Swedenborgian.  Now 
can  you  send  me  out  a  number  of  these  tracts,  and  a 
number  of  the  short  New  Church  tracts  or  little  pam- 
phlets 1  There  need  not  be  a  great  variety,  but  many 
of  each  kind,  if  you  can.  You  have  no  idea  how  much 
we  can  do  for  the  Church  in  these  times.  Men's 
minds  are  opened  as  they  never  were  before;  you 
would  have  to  be  among  them  to  realize  it  fully.  I  am 
summoned  to  one  of  the  wards,  and  must  stop  for  the 
present. 

July  6th.  —  Twenty  years  ago  to-night  I  broke  my 
ankle.  What  a  poor  little  sufferer  I  was  then  !  Time 
flies,  does  it  not  ?  I  went  over  to  the  wards  yesterday, 


116  MEMOIR   OF 

in  the  midst  of  my  letter.  One  of  my  nurses  was  sick, 
and  sent  for  me.  "  Oh  !  "  said  she,  "  I  thought  I 
should  die  if  you  were  not  at  home  to  come  to  me." 
1  worked  over  her  till  she  felt  better ;  then  travelled 
on  my  rounds,  got  through  the  afternoon  course,  and 
then  went  up  to  Mr.  Yeatman's  in  the  ambulance  with 
the  doctor.  We  both  wanted  to  see  him  on  business ; 
I  about  my  nurses,  and  it  was  pleasanter  going  then 
than  in  the  heat  of  the  day.  We  were  asked  to  stay 
to  tea,  but  could  not,  for  the  doctor  had  business  to 
attend  to,  and  I  had  to  make  an  evening  visit  to  very 
sick  men.  So  we  drove  home  as  fast  as  we  could,  and 
I  started  out  with  my  lantern,  like  Diogenes  or  Guy 
Fawkes,  whichever  you  like.  As  usual,  a  little  to  at- 
tend to  here  and  there.  I  wish  I  was  wiser  and  better. 
To-day  I  was  talking  to  one  of  the  men,  and  I  told 
him  one  of  the  uses  of  sickness  was  to  make  us  think 
about  the  Lord  and  religion.  He  told  me  he  thought 
so,  that  he  had  never  thought  much  about  such  mat- 
ters till  he  was  sick,  and  now  he  thought  of  them.  I 
talked  to  him  about  it  then,  —  how  little  real  matter 
it  was  if  the  body  suffered,  if  we  had  spiritual  health 
and  the  peace  of  God,  —  and  this  very  sickness  brought 
him  nearer  to  that  than  he  could  have  been  without  it. 
He  agreed  to  it  all,  and  seemed  glad  to  talk  about 
it.  When  all  outward  help  fails,  they  want  something 
more,  and  they  find  they  cannot  stand  alone. 

Evening.  —  I  have  just  come  in  from  my  night 
rounds.  The  night  is  a  little  cooler,  and  the  men 
feel  better  for  it.  I  have  been  round  looking  at  the 


• 
EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  117 

sickest  men,  seeing  that  they  have  what  they  need.  I 
get  so  many  kindly  hand-grasps  as  I  go  my  rounds. 
One  poor  sick  boy  does  not  like  it,  if  I  do  not  speak  to 
him  every  time  I  go  round. 

July  7.  —  I  have  finished  my  morning  rounds,  and 
have  a  few  minutes  :  do  you  want  them  1  I  should 
like  a  good  New  England  east-wind ;  it  would  be  per- 
fectly refreshing,  the  air  is  so  sultry  to-day.  I  do  not 
think  the  heat  here  so  hard  to  bear  as  it  is  with  you  ; 
it  is  not  such  a  dry  heat,  not  so  burning,  but  neither 
is  it  so  healthy.  I  get  along  very  well,  and  drink  as 
much  water  as  I  want.  I  suppose  I  have  got  through 
my  acclimatizing  process ;  I  hope  I  have.  The  men 
seem  mending :  we  are  ready  for  more. 

Afternoon.  —  There  is  immense  excitement,  —  news 
that  Vicksburg  is  taken  !  One  of  the  principal  streets 
of  St.  Louis  is  lined  with  flags.  We  shall  have  sick 
and  wounded  enough  now. 


LETTER  XXIX. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
July  8. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  ....  The  news  about  Vicksburg 
is  confirmed,  and  all  are  duly  excited ;  being  on  the 
same  river  brings  it  very  near  to  us.  The  river  is  now 
open,  —  but  I  tremble  to  think  at  what  a  probable 
cost.  It  is  extremely  hot  here,  and  must  be  still  hot- 


118  MEMOIR   OF 

ter  there.     Thousands  of  men  are  wounded  and  sick  : 
I  hope  we  shall  have  them  here.    Our  men  are  conva- 
lescing fast ;  that  is,  the  greater  part.     We  have  over 
a  thousand,  sending  off  as  fast  as  we  can  to  convales- 
cent camps  and  hospitals,  to  make  room  for  the  new- 
comers :  we  shall  be  very  full.     This  is  what  we  have 
been  waiting  for ;  till  Vicksburg  fell,  they  could  only 
send  a  limited  number  of  the  sick ;    now  all  will  be 
sent  that  can  possibly  be  moved,  either  here  or  to 
Memphis.     It  is  not  so  healthy  there  as  here  ;  there- 
fore as  many  will  be  sent  north  as  can  be ;  they  travel 
on  the  boats  in  beds  quite  well.     I  wish  it  were  not  so 
intensely  hot ;  it  is  hard  for  the  sick,  —  this  month  and 
August  will  be  like  a  fiery  furnace.     I  am  glad  I  am 
here,  able  to  do  something.      As  I  told   one  of  my 
nurses  this  morning,  it  is  of  no  use  minding  the  heat ; 
we  must  make  up  our  minds  in  the  beginning  to  bear 
it  this  month.     August  and  September  are  very  hot; 
but  in   September  we  have   some  cool  days,  and  the 
nights  are  then  cooler  than  the  days,  which  is  a  great 
comfort  after  working  all  day.     Winter  will  come  be- 
fore we  know  it.     I  am  drinking  new  milk  for  supper 
now ;  that  has  done  me  good  ;   I  buy  it  at  the  sutler's; 
she  keeps  a  cow.    I  have  what  the  calf  does  not  want ; 
I  am  afraid  he  does  not  love  me.  ...  Is  not  the  news 
all  around  good]     Lee  in  retreat,  or  cut  off,  which  is 
still  better,  and  here,  this  long  and  trying  siege  over. 
These  were  the  two  points  on  which  so  much  has  de- 
pended lately.     I  do  not  think  you  realize  the  immense 
importance  of  the  opening  of  the  Mississippi.    It  alters 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  119 

the  position  of  the  whole  army  of  the  West,  and  gives 
the  greatest  blow  to  the  rebels.  It  was  their  stronghold  ; 
and  they  clung  to  it  with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  fact. 
The  Rebel  general,  Garnett,  was  the  husband  of  one  of 
my  nurses;  she  saw  his  death  in  the  papers  this  morn- 
ing ;  she  told  me  of  it.  He  ran  away  from  her  with 
some  one  else,  disposed  of  his  property  so  that  she  could 
not  get  any  of  it,  —  they  were  wealthy,  —  then  entered 
the  rebel  army.  Now  he  is  dead.  His  wife  is  a  beau- 
tiful woman,  I  should  think  about  twenty-five.  She 
has  clung  to  the  hope  that  he  would  return  to  her. 
She  is  obliged  to  do  something  for  her  support,  I  un- 
derstand. This  is  a  hard  world  to  some.  The  losses 
have  been  very  heavy  on  both  sides;  many  officers 
gone.  My  other  nurses  had  relatives  at  Vicksburg; 
one  other  a  husband,  others  brothers  and  friends.  I 
have  to  try  and  help  patients  and  nurses  both  now. 
I  hope  help  will  be  sent  to  us  if  we  need  it.  I  found 
in  one  of  the  wards  a  strong  man  of  forty,  — his  lip 
quivering  so  he  could  hardly  speak  to  me.  His  son 
was  in  the  fight,  and  he  has  not  heard  whether  he  is 
alive  or  dead  ;  and  so  it  is,  all  round. 

One  of  the  boys  here  is  very  ill ;  his  father  came  to 
see  him,  and  found  him  asleep.  When  the  boy  woke 
there  was  his  father  by  his  bedside.  You  may  imagine 
the  meeting !  The  old  father  sits  by  the  bedside  fan- 
ning him,  and  he  lies  with  his  hand  on  his  father's  knee. 
There  is  an  old  man  here  who  has  been  running  down 
for  some  time,  and  so  homesick  !  A  few  days  ago  his 
wife  got  here ;  there  was  a  general  rejoicing  over  her  in 


120  MEMOIR   OF 

the  ward ;  we  were  so  glad  she  had  come  to  him.  The 
nurses  congratulated  them  both ;  it  has  done  him  real 
good.  There  was  another  man  here  very  ill,  growing 
worse  daily.  I  wrote  to  his  wife  to  come  to  him ;  and 
one  day  when  I  entered  the  ward,  there  she  svas  !  I 
got  a  warm  greeting  from  her.  She  brightened  him 
up,  nursed  him  as  only  a  wife  can,  night  and  day.  I 
let  her  stay  in  the  ward,  sleeping  in  the  lady  nurses' 
room.  He  by  and  by  began  to  mend,  and  was  well 
enough  last  week  to  go  home  with  his  wife.  If  he 
gets  well  I  do  believe  it  will  be  due  to  her ;  I  think 
she  saved  his  life.  Is  not  that  a  happy  thought  for  a 
wife? 

Talking  of  other  people's  homes  makes  me  think  of 
my  mother.  I  am  very  happy  here  now,  and  I  think 
people  like  me  tolerably  well.  I  should  like  to  be  here 
till  the  war  was  over;  but  I  do  not  know  where  I  shall 
be  placed  or  sent.  I  am  not  quite  acclimated  yet ; 
little  things  hurt  me.  If  I  could  have  been  well  and 
strong  at  Vicksburg,  so  as  to  be  as  useful  as  a  surgical 
nurse,  as  I  know  how  to  be,  I  should  have  gone  there 
three  weeks  ago  ;  as  it  is,  I  am  -more  useful  here,  per- 
haps more  so  at  any  rate,  for  I  have  a  great  deal  to 
look  after,  and  I  try  to  do  all  I  have  strength  for.  My 
position  brings  me  into  many  pleasant  relations  with 
others.  I  have  no  time  to  accept  the  courtesies  offered 
me ;  but  it  is  pleasant  to  think  I  am  thought  of  and 
cared  for.  More  than  one  house  has  been  opened  to 
me,  with  the  request  that^-I  would  consider  it  a  home 
at  all  times,  especially  if  I  were  sick.  So  I  shall  not 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  121 

feel  so  forloni  again  as  I  did  when  I  came  up  the  river 
sick,  and  thought  what  a  little  fool  I  was  to  come 
West,  where  I  could  not  keep  well  and  do  my  work. 
I  have  got  well,  and  work  as  usefully  as  I  could  any- 
where. I  think  I  work  easier  because  I  am  so  much 
thinner ;  they  call  me  here  "  the  little  lady."  .  .  . 
Caterpillars  have  come,  but  I  take  them  among  all  other 
exigencies.  I  think  of  sending  you  a  collection  of  the 
insects  that  enter  my  room,  either  by  flying  or  walking, 
only  I  should  probably  be  obliged  to  send  it  by  the 
freight  train.  They  vary  in  size,  but  all  bite,  except 
the  flies,  and  they  go  down  your  throat  if  you  open 
your  mouth  at  all.  I  speak  from  personal  experience. 
I  want  you  should  be  sure  and  tell  me  if  father  has 
his  yacht  this  summer.  I  do  so  hope  he  has.  I  wish 
I  could  see  a  good  large  fish  for  old  acquaintance' 
sake. 


LETTER    XXX. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
July  12,  1863. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  wanted  all  the  week  to 
write  to  you,  and  hope  I  shall  now  succeed.  On 
Thursday  many  more  sick  came,  mostly  wounded.  It 
was  a  very  hot  day,  and  we  had  our  hands  full.  As  I 
went  from  ward  to  ward,  I  could  not  help  thinking 
how  many  there  were  still  unhelped.  I  found  many 
so  exhausted  they  could  not  eat.  I  had  a  quantity  of 


122  MEMOIR   OF 

broth  and  soup  provided,  that  they  could  drink,  and  it 
did  them  good.  If  they  can  be  brought  up  from  that 
first  stage  of  exhaustion,  it  is  a  great  point  gained. 
After  I  thought  all  provided  for,  I  went  for  some  din- 
ner myself;  then  back  to  the  wards  again.  As  I  went 
through  one  ward,  the  surgeon  of  it,  Dr.  G.,  told 
me  that  there  were  several  wounded  carried  into  two 
other  wards,  and  that  the  surgeon  of  those  wards  was 
off  in  the  city  !  (I  think  he  heard  of  it  afterwards.) 
You  may  imagine  I  was  in  those  wards  in  about  five 
minutes,  and  commenced  examining  the  wounds. 
Soon,  over  came  Dr.  G.  himself,  to  my  great  delight. 
He  gave  his  directions,  and  the  men  were  made  com- 
fortable as  possible.  One  of  them  will  lose  either  the 
whole  or  a  part  of  his  hand.  There  was  no  female 
nurse  in  the  ward  he  was  in,  and  the  Doctor  of  the 
ward  was  not  to  be  compared  to  the  one  who  went 
over  with  me ;  so  I  wanted  to  have  this  man  and  one 
other  up  in  his  ward.  I  went  over  to  Dr.  Russell,  and 
asked  him  if  they  might  be  transferred.  "  Certainly," 
was  the  reply.  I  had  the  worst  case  put  on  a  stretcher 
and  carried  over.  The  boy  was  placed  in  a  nice  bed, 
every  thing  arranged  right  around  him,  and  a  pleasant 
nurse  watching  over  him  ;  he  looked  like  another  be- 
ing, he  was  so  happy,  he  fairly  laughed.  It  was  very 
hot,  and  the  wards  were  really  uncomfortable.  I  went 
to  every  one  after  supper,  and  had  shades  taken  away 
from  windows ;  they  were  opened  as  much  as  possible, 
and  every  ward  watered  "profusely,  like  the  streets, 
with  watering-pots ;  it  makes  the  greatest  possible  dif- 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  123 

ference  in  the  temperature.  If  you  would  go  without 
a  carpet  in  your  drawing-room  and  water  it  well,  you 
would  find  out !  Finally  I  went  to  bed  in  a  room  like 
an  oven.  Since  then  we  have  been  busy  enough. 

The  city  was  brilliantly  illuminated  yesterday,  and 
music  and  flags  to  give  it  all  due  eclat.  I  did  not  go 
in,  for  Dr.  Russell  did  not  think  it  best  for  the  lady 
nurses  to  go,  as  there  was  no  one  to  take  care  of  them, 
and  I  did  not  think  it  right  to  accept  my  invitation 
after  being  obliged  to  say  no  to  them.  So  I  staid 
at  home.  We  had  an  afternoon  celebration  out  here. 
Some  of  the  employe's  subscribed,  and  procured  the 
services  of  an  excellent  band.  The  Doctor  ordered  an 
excellent  dinner  of  various  good  things,  and  had  a  plat- 
form erected  in  the  grove,  and  seats  carried  out,  so  that 
the  men  could  celebrate  it  in  their  own  fashion.  About 
eleven,  the  band  appeared  in  an  open  car  decorated 
with  flags,  and  drawn  by  four  horses.  They  drove  into 
the  gates,  preceded  by  the  provost-sergeant  on  horse- 
back, playing  the  national  airs.  In  this  style  they 
drove  slowly  round  all  the  hospital  buildings,  then  to 
the  stand.  After  dinner,  we  all  went  down  ;  the  ladies 
had  reserved  seats  near  the  platform.  The  Doctor  was 
on  the  platform,  but  the  soldiers  had  the  meeting  after 
their  own  fashion,  and  the  speaking  was  very  good. 
You  would  be  surprised  to  hear  how  well  the  soldiers 
speak.  They  fear  nobody,  and  speak  in  the  most 
graphic  manner. 

Richard's  death  surprised  me  very  much.  He  was  a 
dear,  good  boy,  one  of  the  pleasantest  I  ever  knew.  I 


124  MEMOIR  OF 

have  become  so  familiar  with  death  that  it  no  longer 
affects  me  as  it  once  did.  I  have  got  to  thinking  of  it 
as  I  do  of  my  friends  continually  setting  out  for  this 
place  or  that.  The  other  world  seems  very  near,  at 
times.  I  have  been  with  a  dying  man  to-night ;  he 
was  very  quiet.  I  said  the  prayer  to  him  ;  he  seemed 
very  much  pleased  ;  said  "  That  was  good."  He  held 
my  hand  clasped  in  his  all  the  while  I  sat  by  him. 

I  am  busier  than  ever,  I  am  happy  to  say,  and  they 
seem  satisfied  with  me.  I  shall  work  as  long  as  they 
give  me  anything  to  do.  I  should  no  more  think  of 
giving  up  than  my  brother  Chauncy  would.  I  am  so 
glad  I  can  be  of  some  use  too  ;  it  is  a  great  comfort.  I 
hope  now  that  I  shall  always  be  doing  as  long  as  I 
live.  When  my  power  to  do  ceases,  I  want  to  go. 

I  expect  five  new  nurses  this  week  or  next,  and  more 
by  and  by.  We  can  accommodate  twenty-five  hun- 
dred patients  now,  if  required,  and  we  shall  fill  up 
fast ;  we  have  not  many  over  thirteen  hundred  sick, 
besides  convalescents  in  the  invalid  brigade.  I  get 
confused  sometimes  with  so  many  faces,  as  I  go  from 
bed  to  bed. 

My  bandage  roller  is  over  in  one  of  the  wards,  doing 
daily  work;  it  is  a  most  useful  little  thing.  If  the 
ladies  wish  to  send  out  something  very  useful,  I  wish 
they  would  get  us  some  of  the  iron  bandage  rollers 
they  have  for  sale  at  Metcalf's,  Tremont  Row.  They 
are  cheap,  and  very  serviceable ;  they  screw  on  to  the 
table.  I  merely  make  the  suggestion,  as  a  way  in 
which  a  little  money  would  go  a  great  way.  You  can 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  125 

hardly  think  how  necessary  they  are  in  a  surgical 
ward,  where  they  are  constantly  rolling  and  unrolling 
bandages.  Lint  is  wanted ;  scraped  lint  more  than 
thread.  I  understand  that  the  city  hospitals  will, 
some  of  them,  be  closed,  and  the  sick  and  wounded 
sent  here ;  also  we  expect  them  up  the  river  all  the 
time,  as  fast  as  they  can  be  moved. 


LETTER    XXXI. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
July  19. 

MY  DEAR  MOTHER, — I  suppose  you  are  sitting  down 
to  dinner  just  now ;  I  wonder  what  you  have  got.  I 
am  busy  as  ever,  and  with  a  prospect  of  more  to  do.  * 

We  expect  many  more  from  down  the  river.  I  am 
so  glad  it  is  opened ;  there  is  such  rejoicing  over  it ; 
you  have  no  idea  at  the  East  what  the  Mississippi  is 
to  the  the  West ;  it  is  the  ocean,  the  great  highway  of 
commerce,  as  well  as  a  great  thoroughfare. 

I  wonder  what  I  shall  do  with  myself  when  the  war 
is  over ;  I  never  can  sit  down  and  do  nothing.  I  ex- 
pect seven  more  nurses  this  week.  We  have  about 
sixteen  or  seventeen  hundred  men  here,  many  of  whom 
are  to  be  sent  off,  either  home  or  on  discharge,  or  back 
to  the  regiment  or  to  convalescent  camps. 

You  would  be  very  much  interested  in  some  of  the 
men  here ;  I  read  to  some  of  them  as  I  go  round,  and 


126  MEMOIR   OF 

they  listen  so  attentively,  making  such  thoughtful, 
good  remarks  that  it  is  very  pleasant. 

Afternoon.  It  is  very  hot  this  afternoon  —  sultry 
and  close.  Mr.  Yeatman  has  received  forty  bottles  of 
choice  brandy  from  Boston.  Shall  I  ever  see  the  dear 
old  crooked  town  again?  I  like  the  West, —  its  large, 
free  life,  its  magnificent  river,  and  generous-hearted 
people,  opening  hearts  and  doors  to  you.  I  should 
like  to  have  you  see  it. 

I  never  expect  to  live  at  home  again,  I  shall  always 
be  working  somewhere  or  other,  I  hope.  Work  is  my 
life.  I  cannot  be  happy  doing  nothing.  I  must  go  out 
to  the  wards  now. 

Evening.  I  have  come  from  my  night  round.  I 
have  visited  many,  read  to  a  few,  talked  to  others. 
I  wish  you  could  see  the  hands  stretched  out  to  mine 
when  I  go  round.  The  other  day  a  man  showed  me 
the  ambrotype  of  his  wife,  and  told  me  he  had  lived 
with  her  twenty-four  years,  and  had  the  first  cross 
word  to  hear  from  her  yet ;  I  thought  that  was  a  wife 
worth  having.  Yesterday,  as  I  was  passing  through  a 
ward,  a  woman  came  in  very  quickly,  ran  up  to  a  bed 
on  which  one  of  the  patients  was  sitting,  and  flung  her 
arms  round  him ;  it  was  his  wife.  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  the  meeting.  I  did  not  see  her  face,  only 
her  husband  saw  that.  The  color  all  went  out  of  his 
face,  and  she,  woman-like,  immediately  began  fanning 
him,  doing  something  for  him  at  once ;  that  is  our 
women's  proper  way ;  we  were  sent  into  the  world  to 
do  good.  One  of  our  best  nurses  is  going  to  Vicksburg. 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  127 

Mr.  Yeatman  applied  to  me  for  her,  and  I  felt  obliged 
to  let  her  go.  I  went  in  town  with  her  to  make  all 
necessary  arrangements  for  her.  This  is  a  queer  life, 
in  all  its  phases.  I  had  a  supper  of  ice-cream  to-night, 
in  town ;  I  hope  I  was  not  extravagant,  but  I  did  want 
something  besides  rations;  it  was  real  good,  as  the 
children  say. 


LETTER    XXXII. 

I  BOUGHT  myself  a  pair  of  birds ;  I  would  not  care 
for  one.  I  like  to  hear  them  talk  together.  I  got  the 
prettiest  I  could,  and  the  prettiest  cage ;  they  make 
me  feel  quite  at  home ;  you  do  not  know  what  a  com- 
fort their  little  voices  are.  I  have  a  passion-flower,  a 
most  beautiful  variety,  and  it  blossoms  in  my  cham- 
ber ;  a  lemon  tree  that  I  planted ;  it  has  four  leaves ! 
I  feel  at  home  for  the  present.  I  wish  I  had  time  to 
write  more. 


LETTER  XXXIII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
August  9. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  suppose  you  are  at  home  by  this 
time  and  ready  for  a  letter  from  me.  I  am  busy  as 
ever.  Our  good  Doctor  —  Dr.  Ira  Russell  —  goes  home 
this  week  on  a  furlough  of  twenty  days.  He  says  he 


128  MEMOIR  OF 

shall  try  to  go  out  to  Cambridge  and  see  you  and 
father ;  now  if  he  comes  please  do  all  you  can  for  him ; 
he  has  been  a  most  kind  friend  to  me,  instructing  me 
in  my  duties,  supporting  me  on  all  occasions,  and  tak- 
ing care  of  me  in  the  kindest  manner.  He  is  very 
anxious  to  see  his  wife  and  children  and  so  takes  this 
furlough.  A  surgeon  from  another  hospital  takes  his 
place  while  he  is  gone.  I  am  desired  to  keep  on,  so 
suppose  I  shall.  I  shall  try  conscientiously  to  do  my 
work,  and  then  if  it  does  not  suit  I  shall  feel  that  I  am 
not  to  blame.  It  is  hot  here  now,  but  I  do  not  mind 
it,  I  feel  better  than  usual  in  hot  weather.  Your 
boxes  will  do  great  good,  the  soft  linen  was  exactly 
what  we  wanted,  the  bandages  also.  Every  thing  was 
needed  and  gladly  received  ;  the  cologne  was  very  re- 
freshing, this  hot  weather  it  is  doubly  needed.  I  wish 
I  could  see  you  for  a  little  while,  —  would  not  we  talk  ] 
I  should  have  so  many  questions  to  ask.  Is  there 
anything  new  in  Cambridge  ]  I  wonder  whether  I 
shall  be  lonesome  when  I  get  to  Heaven.  I  mean  to 
go  there ;  I  must  be  where  there  is  the  Bible  and  little 
children ;  I  hope  I  shall  have  the  care  of  little  children 
by  and  by. 

I  stopped  writing  to  go  and  see  a  dying  man ;  he 
was  peaceful  and  quiet  though  a  little  wandering  ;  there 
was  the  most  beautiful  presence,  or  sphere,  around 
him ;  the  good  spirits  must  be  very  near,  close  and 
ready  to  help.  It  always  seems  to  me  when  I  think 
of  it  like  a  birth  in  this  world,  when  all  are  ready  to 
welcome  and  meet  the  new-comer.  If  our  spiritual 


EMILY   ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  129 

sight  were  opened  what  a  beautiful  sight  we  should 
see  !  — all  those  waiting  spirits  and  their  tender  loving 
care.  I  feel  a  little  homesick  to-night,  but  if  I  were  to 
give  up  my  work  and  go  home  I  could  not  be  happy, 
so  I  must  be  thankful  I  am  here. 


LETTER  XXXIV. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
September  10. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  thought  you  would  like  a  letter 
from  me.  They  say  they  shall  never  let  me  go  down 
the  river  again.  They  seem  to  think  I  am  worth  keep- 
ing alive.  We  have  among  our  nurses  one  little  woman 
whose  husband  is  at  Vicksburg,  and  since  she  came  here 
her  little  child  died.  It  was  brought  to  the  hospital 
and  she  took  care  of  it  here ;  it  died  in  her  room.  I 
was  with  it  when  it  died  ;  the  poor  mother  sat  with  her 
head  buried  on  my  shoulder ;  she  could  not  look  on. 
She  was  very  much  overcome.  I  repeated  to  her  the 
Lord's  prayer,  and  that  quieted  her.  I  sent  for  the 
chaplain,  and  we  had  the  funeral  service  in  the  chapel. 
I  got  a  quantity  of  delicate  flowers,  and  they  perfectly 
covered  the  little  thing  with  them  as  it  lay  in  its 
coffin.  I  have  been  by  many  death-beds ;  but  this  was 
the  first  by  a  little  child.  The  mother  is  still  here ; 
she  wished  to  remain.  I  can  hardly  believe  the  summer 
has  gone,  it  seems  to  have  flown  by  j  the  autumn  begins 

9 


130  MEMOIR   OF 

to  show  itself,  leaves  falling  and  autumn  tints  com- 
ing ;  it  is  very  warm  here  still ;  our  warm  weather  lasts 
till  late.  I  suppose  you  have  my  copy  of  the  rules.  I 
thought  it  would  interest  you. 

The  hospital  is  working  on  as  usual ;  I  am  doing  my 
part  steadily,  and  appear  to  suit ;  I  use  all  my  strength 
and  I  can  do  no  more.  I  may  as  well  do  this  as  any- 
thing else ;  I  cannot  fight,  but  I  can  take  care  of  the 
fighters.  There  is  a  young  man  here  who  has  been 
through  eleven  battles  and  is  now  shot  through  the 
chest.  I  am  afraid  his  life  will  not  be  a  long  one. 
These  chest  wounds  are  very  dangerous  things ;  I  had 
rather  see  a  man  wounded  almost  any  where  else. 
Just  a  little  hole,  perhaps  healed  up  and  the  hurt  in- 
side ;  a  little  more  pain,  a  little  harder  breathing,  and 
weaker  and  weaker  day  by  day ;  so  they  go.  I  have 
some  curious  experiences  by  their  bedsides.  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  settle  down  into  a  do-nothing  life 
again ;  I  shall  want  to  work  while  I  live.  I  have  not 
been  very  well  this  summer,  though  the  heat  has  not 
troubled  me.  I  have  never  been  so  well  as  I  was  in 
the  early  cool  days,  but  I  feel  better  and  I  am  evidently 
getting  acclimated,  but  it  takes  time.  I  can  drink  the 
water,  and  have  had  neither  the  chills  nor  cholera.  My 
habit  of  cold  water  bathing  is  a  great  preservative 
against  disease. 

I  wish  I  was  not  deaf,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  be 
reconciled  to  it.  Please  tell  me  the  news  at  home. 
What  is  going  on,  who  is  in  Cambridge  and  who  has 
left ;  whom  do  you  see  of  the  inhabitants  1  I  had  a 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  131 

letter  fromSusan  Dixwellwith  a  charming  photograph 
of  her  club  and  her  piazza;  it  made  me  homesick.  Only 
think ;  the  seasons  have  come  round,  the  flowers  come 
and  gone,  and  I  have  not  seen  them.  Please  send  me 
a  dandelion  or  clover  from  your  lawn  in  your  next  letter. 
How  I  should  like  to  see  some  of  my  friends  unless 
they  have  forgotten  me, —  out  of  sight  out  of  mind 
is  very  apt  to  be  true.  My  birds  are  lovely  and  a 
great  comfort  to  me.  Do  write  soon ;  I  am  contented 
to  stay  now,  and  thankful  for  the  work. 

Soon  after  this  letter  was  written  my  daughter's 
health  began  to  fail.  In  autumn  the  malarial 
diseases  of  that  region  are  prevalent.  She  be- 
came seriously  ill,  and  at  length  it  was  determined 
that  she  must  return  home.  She  left  St.  Louis  in 
October,  and  when  she  reached  Cambridge,  was 
carried  from  car  to  carriage,  and  from  the  carriage 
to  the  house.  Her  health  was  gradually  restored, 
and  she  thought  herself  well  enough  to  resume 
duties,  and  returned  to  St.  Louis,  reaching  that  city 
on  March  3,  1864. 

LETTER  XXXV. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
March  12,  1864. 

DARLING  MOTHER,  —  I  was  so  glad  to  get  your  letter 
yesterday.  I  wanted  to  answer  it  right  off,  but  had 


132  MEMOIR  OF 

not  time,  there  was  so  much  to  do.  My  head  fairly 
ached,  so  much  coming  into  it  all  at  once  it  could  not 
quite  hold  it  all.  We  have  many  patients  here,  very 
sick  men  among  them.  All  sorts  of  sicknesses,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  small-pox  still  appears.  We  had  four 
cases  in  one  ward  to-day ;  they  were  removed  to  the 
small-pox  hospital  on  the  river.  No  small-pox  cases 
remain  in  this  hospital  for  treatment.  We  have  the 
erysipelas  cases  however,  and  that  is  about  as  bad  while 
it  lasts.  We  have  twenty-six  cases  of  this  alone;  the 
other  sick  count  by  hundreds.  There  is  one  ward 
where  we  have  colored  women  and  children ;  it  is  very 
funny,  the  queerest  little  pickaninnies  ! 

I  had  a  very  pleasant  visit  at  the  Chauvenets  ;  I 
came  out  and  saw  the  Doctor  every  day,  and  went 
over  nurses  with  Mr.  Yeatman.  I  came  out  finally 
on  Wednesday ;  my  baggage  came  out  the  next  day  ; 
I  have  my  old  room,  neatly  arranged  and  every  thing 
I  need. 

There  are  a  great  number  of  frost-bites  in  the  hos- 
pital. The  negroes  lay  in  the  woods  and  fields  in  cold 
weather  while  escaping  from  their  masters.  The  foot  of 
one  man  is  off  nearly  to  his  ancle ;  but  he  is  bright  and 
cheery  :  freedom  seems  to  be  the  main  thing.  I  had  a 
great  many  warm  greetings  from  old  friends ;  I  hope  I 
shall  be  able  to  be  of  use  here  yet. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PAKSONS.  133 


LETTEE  XXXVI. 

BENTON  BAREACKS  HOSPITAL, 
March  16. 

DEAR  KITTIE,  —  I  thought  you  would  like  to  hear 
from  me  once  in  a  while.  I  am  busy  among  the  sick, 
both  colored  and  white.  The  white  are  pretty  sick, 
but  hardly  so  much  so  as  the  colored.  We  have  had 
many  cases  of  the  small-pox  and  erysipelas.  I  found 
a  case  of  small-pox  and  one  of  varioloid  this  morning 
the  first  ward  I  entered.  The  poor  man  with  small- 
pox looked  up  so  sadly  at  me  as  I  covered  him  up. 
The  colored  people  are  very  grateful  for  all  that  is 
done  for  them.  I  have  a  great  many  smiles  as  I  go 
round  among  them.  We  are  trying  to  train  colored 
women  as  nurses  among  the  blacks ;  it  is  a  difficult 
task,  but  one  worth  trying.  We  put  them  under  white 
nurses,  two  or  more  colored  women  to  one  white  nurse. 
In  regard  to  the  latter  we  hold  to  our  old  rule  of 
employing  for  nurses  only  women  of  character  and 
respectable  position.  They  are  more  responsible  than 
others,  and  a  person  cannot  know  too  much  for  a  nurse. 
It  is 'a  very  serious  position.  We  have  one  large 
ward,  or  rather  building,  devoted  to  women  and  chil- 
dren. The  children  are  generally  well,  being  taken  in 
as  accompaniments  to  their  mammas  ;  there  are  nine- 
teen pickanninies  in  this  ward.  Ask  mother  if  she  would 
like  one.  Some  are  very  pretty  ;  I  can  have  as  many 
as  I  want.  The  men  are  trying  hard  to  learn  to  read 


134  MEMOIR   OF 

and  write,  though  the  latter  accomplishment  is  confined 
to  few.  One  woman  came  this  morning  bringing  her 
baby ;  it  had  a  harelip  and  I  have  asked  Dr.  Russell 
to  operate  upon  it  to-morrow  morning.  He  says  he 
will.  I  suppose  I  shall  assist.  I  wonder  what  I  shall 
do  next.  I  asked  the  mother's  permission,  telling  her 
the  baby  would  look  as  pretty  as  she  did !  She  looked 
pleased,  and  consented.  She  is  quite  good  looking. 
We  are  whitewashing,  and  expect  that  will  check  some 
of  the  diseases  ;  it  also  makes  everything  look  nice  and 
clean. 


LETTER  XXXVII. 

BENTON  BARUACKS  HOSPITAL, 
March  18. 

MY  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  been  wishing  to  write 
to  you,  but  have  not  had  time  ;  I  am  very  busy.  To- 
day I  was  busy  from  the  time  I  got  up  till  after  seven 
to-night.  I  should  be  busy  in  the  evening  too,  but  Dr. 
Russell  has  forbidden  my  making  night  rounds  while 
the  evenings  are  so  chilly ;  he  is  afraid  I  shall  have 
pneumonia  if  I  am  exposed  to  night  air,  in  addition  to 
being  over  the  sick  so  much.  I  think  the  men  are 
mending,  though  we  still  have  several  deaths  every 
week.  This  pneumonia  makes  sad  work  among  the 
colored  people  ;  they  cannot  resist  it  as  well  as  the 
whites.  It  is  just  a  year  since  I  was  so  sick  at  Mrs. 
Chauvenet's ;  now  I  am  well.  I  hope  I  shall  do  what 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  135 

is  right.  I  do  not  think  I  am  very  wise.  Mr.  Yeat- 
man  was  here  this  afternoon,  and  I  went  over  the 
hospital  with  him  and  Dr.  Russell.  We  have  many 
sick  here  now.  The  blacks  are  attending  school  ;  there 
are  sixty-five  scholars  in  the  chapel.  I  went  the  other 
morning  to  hear  them  sing,  they  sang  of  the  other 
life  and  its  peace ;  it  was  very  touching.  Truly  this 
other  life  is  the  all  in  all.  There  is  an  old  Methodist 
hymn  "  Let  Jesus  find  us  waiting  on  the  shore ; "  a 
sick  girl  I  was  taking  care  of  in  the  Boston  Hospital 
sang  it  to  me  when  she  was  half  unconscious.  I  hope 
I  shall  be  "  waiting  on  the  shore."  I  have  very  much 
the  same  duties  here  that  I  had  last  summer.  I  am 
going  to  try  and  profit  by  what  I  learnt  then,  to  act 
more  wisely  now ;  I  think  it  is  time  that  every  year  of 
my  life  should  be  spent  a  little  better  than  the  one  that 
went  before  it ;  I  surely  have  had  teaching  enough  to 
learn  to  trust.  I  have  been  busy  this  afternoon  in 
taking  down  the  names  and  dates  of  entrance  of  our 
colored  nurses ;  it  was  a  work  of  time  to  get  hold  of 
all  the  data.  We  have  ten  now,  and  shall  have 
more.  I  think  the  colored  people  very  interesting. 
They  are  kindly  and  warm-hearted.  I  amused  the 
Doctor  very  much  by  announcing  the  arrival  of  another 
little  black  baby  yesterday  morning.  There  have  been 
so  many  of  them  in  that  ward  that  the  Doctor  has 
named  it  the  "  Recruiting  Infantry  Station."  The 
grass  here  is  growing  green  notwithstanding  the  cold. 
A  month  more  will  make  a  great  difference  here,  the 
trees  will  be  coming  out  then.  One  of  my  nurses,  who 


136  MEMOIR  OF 

came  up  from  Memphis,  says  the  spring  flowers  are  iu 
bloom  there.  I  hope  you  and  father  are  well.  You 
must  pray  for  me  and  that  will  help  me.  I  do  for 
you.  Good-night. 


LETTER  XXXVIII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
March  21. 

DARLING  MOTHER,  —  I  felt  a  little  lonely  to-night, 
so  thought  I  would  write  a  line  to  you.  I  do  not  go 
out  evenings  on  account  of  pneumonia ;  the  Doctor  is 
afraid  of  my  having  it.  I  get  very  tired  in  the  day- 
time and  am  glad  to  rest  when  night  comes.  Is  there 
any  news  with  you  1  Do  tell  me  how  your  wrist  is,  and 
how  you  and  father  are  generally.  I  feel  already 
as  if  I  had  drifted  far  off  away  from  you  all.  I  work 
over  our  poor  colored  soldiers,  and  they  are  so  grateful 
for  our  care.  They  are  as  pleasant  to  take  care  of  as 
white  soldiers,  and  the  wards  are  as  nice,  both  with 
regard  to  comfort  and  order.  We  have  water  enough* 
the  Mississippi  has  not  yet  given  out,  and  the  reservoir 
has  been  cleaned.  We  have  a  new  arrangement  here 
now  ;  the  great  amphitheatre  is  to  be  what  is  called  a 
general  hospital,  that  is  a  hospital  that  takes  in  any 
patients  that  the  military,  government  sends.  The 
outside  wards,  or  buildings,  are  mostly  for  the  post  hos- 
pital ;  that  is,  they  only  take  the  soldiers  from  the  adja- 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  137 

cent  military  post  of  Benton  Barracks.  The  general 
hospital  is  to  be  entirely  for  colored  soldiers.  It  is  to 
be  the  colored  hospital ;  we  shall  probably  have  colored 
soldiers  from  down  the  river.  There  are  over  seventy 
thousand  colored  soldiers  in  the  Western  army.  There 
is  a  great  interest  excited  here  with  regard  to  their 
care  and  treatment.  Some  of  the  most  influential  men 
at  the  West  are  taking  up  the  matter.  This  hospital 
is  doing  a  great  work,  not  merely  by  taking  care  of 
their  bodies,  but  by  bringing  around  them  noble, 
devoted  men  and  women  who  give  the  blacks  the 
place  which  freedmen  should  have,  and  treat  them 
rightly  and  make  others  treat  them  rightly.  There  is 
too  much  of  a  feeling  among  many  here  that  they 
must  be  treated  like  inferior  beings ;  they  are  only 
inferior  from  neglect,  that  is,  in  many  respects ;  I  hope 
I  shall  see  my  way  clear  to  do  my  duty  by  them  and 
all.  If  you  have  any  thoughts  about  it  in  any  way, 
let  me  have  them,  for  you  always  help  me. 


LETTER  XXXIX. 

BENTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
April  4. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  received  letters  from  grand- 
mother and  Kittie  on  Saturday  ;  they  were  very  kind  to 
write,  Kittie's  letter  I  especially  appreciated,  it  must 
have  taxed  her  eyes;  she  writes  very  entertaining 


138  MEMOIR   OF 

letters.  She  does  not  speak  of  having  received  my 
letter ;  now  I  wrote  to  her,  to  Chauncy  and  Carrie  ; 
have  they  got  the  letters  1  I  should  be  pleased  to 
know.  I  am  tired  and  have  a  stiff  neck,  —  growing 
rheumatic  in  my  old  age  ;  Dr.  Russell  gave  me  some 
liniment  to  rub  on  it. 

I  am  busy,  and  hope  I  am  of  use.  The  colored  men 
have  a  hospital  of  their  own  now ;  the  whole  amphi- 
theatre is  turned  into  a  general  hospital  for  colored 
men,  soldiers.  But  you  have  no  idea  of  the  opposition 
it  excites  among  the  Copperheads.  If  you  speak  of 
treating  the  colored  people  kindly  in  a  general  way,  as 
you  speak  of  your  cats  and  dogs,  they  have  no  objec- 
tion ;  but  if  you  carry  out  before  their  eyes  the  fact  of 
their  being  freedmen,  by  treating  them  on  an  equality, 
there  is  no  end  of  the  opposition.  There  are,  in  the 
city  of  St.  Louis,  a  number  of  intelligent  colored 
women,  — ladies,  in  fact,  many  of  them,  well  educated 
and  wealthy ;  lady -like  in  manners  and  conversation. 
Now,  mother,  would  you  believe  it  1  till  very  lately  if 
one  of  these  women  got  into  a  street-car  she  must  not 
sit  down  inside,  but  stand  on  the  platform  among  men 
who  would  and  often  do  treat  them  rudely.  The  only  ex- 
ception made  is  this  ;  these  colored  women  have  got  up 
a  colored  Union  Society  among  themselves  ;  it  has  been 
in  operation  about  six  months.  There  has  existed  in 
St.  Louis,  a  Society  for  the  colored  among  the  white 
ladies  since  the  beginning  of  the  war.  These  ladies 
visit  the  hospital  constantly,  taking  comforts  to  the 
sick.  The  colored  ladies  wished  the  right  of  visiting 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  139 

their  soldiers  in  this  hospital,  and  they  have  at  last 
obtained  the  privilege  of  riding  in  the  cars  on  one  day  in 
the  week,  viz.  Saturday.  Some  of  them  coming  out  a 
week  ago  were  deliberately  insulted  by  a  white  lady 
who  was  coming  out  to  visit  our  soldiers.  This  is  the 
state  of  things  here. 

Efforts  are  being  made  by  every  friend  of  the  freed- 
man  to  give  them  their  rights.  Dr.  Russell  has  been 
fighting  for  it  all  winter;  he  has  gained  a  great  deal 
for  them,  but  it  has  awakened  a  spirit  of  opposition 
that  I  had  no  conception  of.  It  is  not  to  be  given  up, 
however.  Mr.  Yeatman,  B.  Gratz  Brown,  Senator 
from  St.  Louis,  Dr.  Eliot,  Stanton  at  Washington,  all 
have  hold  of  this  thing,  all  trying  more  or  less  to 
have  it  righted.  The  names  I  have  mentioned  are  but 
a  few  of  those  who  are  working  for  this  cause.  We 
have  a  great  deal  to  do.  I  hope  that  the  colored 
people  will  have  an  equal  right  to  all  public  convey- 
ances soon  ;  I  had  quite  an  interesting  conversation 
with  a  Lieut-Colonel  Clendennan  this  afternoon  about 
it.  He  is  a  firm  Abolitionist,  his  men  (colored)  are 
stationed  at  the  barracks  close  by  ;  when  he  comes  out  in 
the  cars  he  always  insists  that  the  colored  soldiers  shall 
ride  as  well  as  the  white  men.  He  told  me  many  things 
which  interested  me  very  much ;  he  is  very  handsome, 
and  his  fine  face  lighted  up  as  he  talked  of  the  poor 
people  he  was  working  with  and  for.  He  told  me  an 
amusing  anecdote  of  a  Confederate  damsel  who  wished 
to  pass  out  of  the  way  of  those  horrid  Yankees  ;  she  was 
passed  through  our  lines  some  forty  miles  to  Vicksburg. 


140  MEMOIR  OF 

It  was  during  the  siege.  On  getting  in,  she  told  the 
commandant  she  wished  to  go  to  St.  Charles.  Why, 
that  was  in  possession  of  Colonel  So-and-so,  with  a  few 
thousand  Yankees,  and  so  on  at  every  place  she  named. 
At  last  she  exclaimed,  "  Where  can  I  go  to  be  out  of  the 
way  of  the  Yankees  1 "  "  Go  to  the  devil !  Madam  !  " 
I  am  glad  some  of  the  Confederates  have  a  realizing 
sense  of  their  condition.  One  of  my  prayers  is  that 
we  may  all  be  united  again,  in  peace  and  good-will. 


LETTER  XL. 

BENTOK  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
April  9. 

IN  my  last  letter  I  gave  you  an  account  of  the 
colored  ladies'  Union  Aid  Society.  This  afternoon,  one 
of  the  leading  members  came  to  see  me.  She  is  a  well 
educated  and  intelligent  woman  ;  her  occupation  that  of 
a  hair-dresser  ;  she  is  married,  and  she  and  her  husband 
are  respectable  honest  people.  Her  name  is  Lee.  She 
and  her  friends  are  trying  to  do  all  they  can  for  their 
brethren.  They  visit  them,  teach  them  to  read,  read  to 
them,  and  comfort  them  in  many  ways.  I  think,  mother, 
that  the  work  of  this  time  is  something  like  that  of 
the  early  Christians  among  the  poor  and  lowly.  You 
have  hardly  an  idea  in  Massachusetts  of  the  work  there 
is  to  be  done.  I  used  to  think  the  statements  of  aboli- 
tionists extreme,  and  that  their  views  were  sometimes 


EMILY  ELIZABETH    PARSONS.  141 

irrational ;  now  I  wonder  that  people  acquainted  with 
the  facts  can  keep  any  bounds  at  all.  I  heard  things 
to  day  that  would  make  your  blood  run  cold.  And 
this  place  is  the  very  centre  of  such  opinions ;  the  very 
hot -bed  for  them.  And  I  do  believe  that  is  one  reason 
that  this  hospital  for  colored  soldiers  has  been  permitted 
to  be  established  in  their  midst ;  for  it  is  doing  more 
than  taking  care  of  their  bodies ;  it  is  bringing  to  the 
surface  facts,  and  establishing  precedents  face  to  face 
with  the  enemy.  It  js  storming  the  citadel.  When  I 
look  upon  this  great  amphitheatre,  dropped  down  in  the 
midst  of  all  this,  and  close  by  a  city,  the  centre  of  so 
much  of  this  Western  world,  I  think  there  is  no  place 
where  it  could  be  put,  where  it  would  come  more  in 
contact  with  the  forces  against  it  than  here.  I  hope 
you  will  some  time  see  this  place. 

Mr.  Yeatman  told  me  that  at  present  he  did  not 
need  more  teachers;  as  for  nurses  we  must  employ  first 
those  already  in  the  service  of  the  Sanitary  Com- 
mission who  have  approved  themselves,  or  those  whom 
Miss  Dix  sends  out.  There  is  the  objection  to  sending 
East  for  nurses,  that  it  is  a  long  way,  and  I  should 
not  like  to  be  responsible  for  any  one  whom  I  had  not 
known  as  a  tried  nurse.  The  objections  to  it  are 
obvious  ;  if  we  were  close  by  her  home  it  would  not  be 
so  hard  for  her  to  come  and  try. 

I  have  had  a  stiff  neck  and  pain  of  a  rheumatic  kind 
in  my  shoulder ;  the  Doctor  gave  me  some  liniment  to 
rub  on ;  it  did  me  good.  Dr.  Russell  has  also  moved 
me  into  a  larger  and  pleasanter  room  where  I  have  good 
air  and  am  comfortable. 


142  MEMOIR   OF 

I  suppose  the  green  buds  are  bursting  on  the  trees 
and  the  grass  growing  greener  and  thicker.  I  should 
like  to  go  to  some  beautiful  country  and  enjoy  myself 
out  doors  like  a  pussy  cat  or  squirrel;  I  do  love  the 
country.  It  will  be  one  year  next  Friday  since  I  came 
to  this  hospital  to  stay.  How  much  I  have  gone* 
through  since  then  !  I  hope  to  do  right  wherever  I 
may  be.  I  have  had  a  very  bad  cough,  but  am  nearly 
well  now  and  have  a  good  appetite.  I  have  all  I  need, 
I  suppose.  When  I  have  all  I  can  get  I  like  to  think 
so. 


LETTER   XLI. 

BEXTON  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 

May  7. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  We  are  having  very  warm  weather ; 
too  hot  to  be  absolutely  pleasant,  but  the  trees  are  be- 
ginning to  be  beautiful,  and  the  grass  is  lovely,  — 
such  a  beautiful  green  !  Our  sick  here  are,  for  the 
most  part,  getting  well ;  this  weather  is  doing  them 
good  ;  the  coughs  are  leaving  them,  and  appetites  fast 
coming  to  them.  One  of  my  nurses  is  just  getting 
over  the  measles,  and  another  down  with  erysipelas, 
very  sick ;  I  feel  anxious  about  her.  I  wonder  what 
you  are  all  doing  at  home.  I  am  afraid  there  will  be 
heavy  work  here.  Down  by  the  river,  as  well  as  in  the 
Southern  States,  our  news  is"  not  good.  Three  years 
since  Sumter  surrendered  !  But  we  have  done  much 


EMILY   ELIZABETH    PARSONS.  143 

in  that  time;  and  now,  I  hope,  the  end  is  a  little 
nearer.  I  do  not  want  to  give  up  working  among  the 
soldiers  while  the  war  lasts ;  it  is  pleasant  to  help  if 
it  is  ever  so  little.  And  I  shall  not  be  of  any  particu- 
lar use  to  anybody  when  the  war  is  over,  for  all  I  am 
good  for  is  to  nurse,  and  tie  up  compound  fractures. 
I  am  glad  I  am  good  for  something.  To-morrow  is 
Sunday;  I  shall  think  of  you  all.  I  enclose  a  photo- 
graph of  a  slave  woman.  Her  hair  is  the  color  of 
Kittie's,  only  brighter  brown  ;  her  complexion  Saxon, 
so  much  so  that,  if  she  were  in  a  room  with  white 
persons,  you  would  not  know  she  was  not  white  also. 
She  is  probably  octoroon.  She  is  prettier  than  her 
picture,  she  has  such  a  beautiful  complexion.  She  has 
been  a  slave  till  now.  I  shall  have  some  queer  things 
to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  dare  put  on  paper.  I  have  a 
pretty  bouquet  on  my  table  that  one  of  my  nurses  sent 
me.  Flowers  are  late  this  year.  But  we  shall  all  soon 
be  where  the  flowers  are  never  late  and  the  spring-time 
never  blighted.  I  suppose  you  are  busy  getting  ready 
for  summer.  I  hope  you  are  comfortably  arranged 
now.  I  wish  I  could  write  you  an  entertaining  letter, 
but  I  have  so  few  ideas,  and  I  feel  dull  and  stupid. 
My  sick  men  care  for  me,  and  their  faces  brighten 
when  I  go  to  them ;  I  am  glad  there  are  some  people 
in  the  world  happier  for  my  having  lived  in  it. 


144  MEMOIR   OF 


LETTER  XLII. 

BENTOX  BARRACKS  HOSPITAL, 
May  12. 

DEAR  KITTIE, —  I  thought  you  would  like  to  hear 
from  me.  I  am  going  on  in  my  usual  routine  among  my 
sick.  I  think  you  would  be  interested  in  our  colored 
boys,  they  are  trying  hard  to  learn  to  read  and  to  write  ; 
I  tell  them  I  am  very  glad,  the  more  they  know  the  more 
of  men  they  will  be ;  yes,  they  say,  they  know  that ; 
but  it  pleases  them  to  have  it  said  to  them.  They  are 
quite  a  religious  set,  and  on  Sunday,  those  who  can 
read,  are  quite  diligent  over  their  Bibles.  The  other 
Sunday  I  took  my  Book  of  Psalms  into  one  of  the 
wards  and  read  to  those  who  were  sick  in  bed ;  I 
read  those  comforting  promises,  and  then  told  them 
these  words  were  for  all  of  us,  and  how  near  the  Lord 
was  to  them  ;  that  when  they  were  off  in  camp  again, 
or  fighting  for  the  old  flag,  he  was  close  by  ready  to 
help  them  whenever  they  asked  Him.  It  was  a  very 
pleasant  thought  to  them.  I  told  them  also  how  He 
loved  them.  The  poor  souls  have  not  had  much  love 
shown  them  in  this  life  and  it  is  very  pleasant  to  them  to 
think  of  such  love  being  all  ready  for  them,  now  and 
hereafter.  The  colored  female  nurses  are  improving 
and  are  of  much  use.  They  have  a  table  to  themselves, 
and  this  morning  I  was  quite  amused  to  find  a  wail 
coming  up  because  they  did  hot  have  corn  bread  and 
fried  meat ;  the  frying  pan  and  corn  bread  are  tieces- 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  145 

saries  of  life  to  the  negroes.  I  reported  to  Dr.  Russell 
who  desired  me  to  draw  up  a  bill  of  fare  in  accord- 
ance with  their  peculiar  dietary  views  and  have  it 
carried  out  in  their  kitchen.  I  have  done  so  and 
hope  they  will  be  satisfied  and  I  shall  not  be  informed 
again  they  have  "  nothing  fit  to  eat,"  because  they 
have  flour  bread  and  boiled  beef.  I  was  visiting  the 
patients  this  morning  and  came  to  quite  a  forlorn 
specimen.  Did  he  want  anything  ?  "  Yes,  an  apple.'* 
I  asked  the  nurse  if  the  Doctor  let  him  eat  apples  ; 
"Yes,  and  he  has  one  now,"  and  turning  down  the  bed 
clothes  there  was  an  apple  half  eaten  in  his  hand. 
The  rogue  had  got  one  out  of  the  nurse  and  meant 
to  get  another  out  of  me.  We  had  a  good  laugh  over 
him,  in  which  he  could  not  help  joining.  One  man 
here,  a  white  man,  wants  raw  onions  every  day,  and  I 
have  been  trying  hard  to  supply  him.  They  are  mostly 
out  of  the  market  now.  The  .other  day,  in  his  grati- 
tude, he  told  me  that  when  he  got  some  pickled  peaches 
he  meant  to  give  me  one.  If  there  is  anything  I  abhor 
it  is  a  pickled  peach,  but  I  did  not  tell  him  so. 

On  May  18  there  was  in  St.  Louis,  a  Fair 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Sanitary  Commission.  My 
daughter  speaks  of  it  as  magnificent ;  as  the  finest 
she  ever  saw;  and  as  very  successful  pecunarily. 
In  several  of  her  letters  she  gives  many  details 
of  it,  some  of  which  might  be  amusing,  but  I 

do   not   see   that  they  differ  from   the   accounts 

10 


146  MEMOIR   OF 

of  other  large  Fairs,  and   I   do   not  insert  them 
here. 

About  this  time  the  character  of  the  Benton 
Barracks  Hospital  began  to  change.  It  soon  be- 
came rather  a  house  of  refuge  for  refugees,  than  a 
hospital  for  sick  and  wounded  soldiers.  Under 
date  of  June  2,  she  says. 

LETTER  XLIII. 

WE  are  having  changes  here ;  there  are  not  many 
sick  and  there  is  now  a  new  order  from  General 
Sherman  to  the  effect  that  no  more  sick  or  wounded 
are  to  be  carried  out  of  his  department.  That  will 
prevent  our  filling  up  here,  I  suppose.  We  have  about 
an  even  number  of  black  and  white  patients ;  this 
week  Mr.  Forman  brought  out  a  number  of  refugees 
and  put  them  into  a  large  building  called  Ward  6. 
The  Home  in  the  city  was  overflowing;  it  is  a  small 
inconvenient  house  ;  and  at  one  time  over  thirty  chil- 
dren were  there  together,  besides  grown  people.  I  do 
not  know  how  many  more  they  will  send  out.  I 
should  not  wonder  if  this  became  a  refugees'  home ; 
but  I  do  not  know  what  they  will  turn  us  into  next. 
I  only  hope  it  will  be  something  good.  I  am  busy  ;  I 
look  after  black  soldiers,  and  white  soldiers,  and  we 
are  now  desired  to  take  charge  of  sick  contrabands. 
The  changing  the  seat  of  war  has  removed  the  neces- 
sity of  so  many  hospitals  here,  and  some  are  closing 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PARSONS.  147 

up.  When  the  white  patients  get  well  there  will 
hardly  be  any  more,  as  the  troops  are  all  ordered 
away  from  here ;  nearly  all  have  gone,  and  the  city 
will  be  for  the  most  part  guarded  by  the  hundred  day 
men,  the  home  guard  of  old  men,  and  some  few 
others.  I  hope  the  city  will  not  be  placed  in  danger 
again,  but  the  guerillas  are  very  active  still,  popping 
up  when  least  expected.  I  do  not  see  one  day  ahead, 
but  I  believe  it  will  come  right  to  all  who  try  to  do 
their  duty.  I  enjoyed  the  Fair  very  much;  it  was  a 
very  pleasant  place.  As  it  is  only  open  in  the  evenings 
I  shall  not  probably  go  in  again ;  I  saw  it  once  in  the 
evening,  it  was  splendid,  the  gas  lighted  it  very  well. 

In  the  latter  part  of  June,  Emily  became  quite 
ill,  and  Dr.  Eussell  for  some  days  wrote  her  letters 
at  her  dictation,  she  being  unable  to  write.  The 
first  letter  which  the  Doctor  wrote  was  dated 
June  22,  the  last  July  3.  All  of  them  are  cheer- 
ful and  hopeful,  although  it  is  apparent,  from  the 
remarks  which  the  Doctor  appended,  that  she  was 
at  one  time  quite  ill.  Here  are  extracts  from  some 
of  them. 

LETTER  XLIV. 

BENTOM  BARRACKS,  June  22,  1864. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  Do  not  be  alarmed  at  Dr.  Russell's 
writing  this ;  I  am  suffering  from  an  attack  of  ill- 


148  MEMOIR   OF 

ness  and  the  Doctor  says  I  must  not  do  anything  but 
keep  still  and  get  well.  I  hope  to  be  at  my  work 
again  in  a  few  days.  I  have  been  confined  to  my  room 
for  three  days,  but  hope  to  be  out  soon,  as  there  is 
a  great  deal  that  demands  my  attention.  I  will  write 
every  day  and  let  you  know  how  I  am,  I  have  a  most 
excellent  colored  woman  to  take  care  of  me. 

[There  follows  a  postscript  from  the  Doctor  say- 
ing he  sees  nothing  alarming  in  her  symptoms.] 

LETTER  XLV. 

BENTON  BARRACKS,  June  23. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  had  a  pretty  good  night  and 
feel  a  little  better  this  morning.  I  am  obliged  to  keep 
very  quiet ;  it  hurts  me  to  sit  up  to  write,  so  the  Doctor 
is  writing  for  me.  I  should  think  you  and  my  sister 
might  write  a  little  more.  I  '11  stop  writing  if  you 
don't.  I  am  flat  on  my  back,  and  have  time  to  be 
irate.  I  shall  write  again  to-morrow  and  expect  I 
shall  be  able  to  say  I  am  a  good  deal  better. 

N.B.  —  I  consider  Miss  Emily  better,  and  believe 
she  is  doing  well  and  will  soon  be  about  again.  She 
is  in  excellent  spirits,  but  dislikes  to  give  up  her  work. 

I.  R. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH  PAESONS.  149 


LETTER  XLVI. 

BENTON  BARRACKS,   June  27. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  am  doing  very  well ;  Doctor  says 
I  may  write  the  next  time  but  prefers  I  should  not 
to-day.  I  am  very  sorry  to  be  sick.  I  want  to  be  at 
my  work  again.  I  am  well  cared  for.  Everybody  is 
kind  to  me.  Mr.  Yeatman's  family  come  and  inquire 
after  me  often  and  send  me  goodies.  Mr.  Yeatman 
has  sent  me  some  nice  things  to-day  which  have  done 
me  good.  I  expect  some  wine  jelly  and  butter-milk 
to-night. 

[Then,  in  her  own  hand.] 

Dr.  Russell  nurses  me  splendidly  but  refuses  to  say 
so. 

LETTER  XLVII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS,  June  28. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  had  my  best  night  last  night,  and 
I  am  a  little  more  comfortable  to-day ;  the  wine  jelly  and 
butter-milk  from  .  Mr.  Yeatman's  came  this  morning. 
I  relish  my  buttermilk  very  much  ;  my  disease  is  much 
less ;  but  I  am  still  weak  and  require  to  keep  very 
quiet ;  I  have  the  best  of  care  and  every  thing  I  need. 
Love  to  all. 


150  MEMOIR   OF 


LETTER  XLVIII. 

BENTON  BARRACKS,  June  30. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  not  gained  much  for  two 
days,  but  hope  to  take  a  start  again  soon  in  the  right 
direction.  My  disease  is  diminishing,  but  I  am  quite 
weak  and  am  obliged  to  keep  very  quiet.  I  am  well 
provided  for  and  have  everything  I  need.  Everybody 
is  kind  and  good  to  me. 

P.S.  —  Emily  on  the  whole  is  doing  well.  The 
weather  is  very  warm  and  her  progress  is  slow ;  she  is 
patient  and  happy. 

I.  R. 


LETTER   XLIX. 

BEXTOX  BARRACKS,  July  2. 

PEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  am  doing  first  rate  and  getting 
well  fast.  My  greatest  difficulty  is  weakness,  but  I 
trust  father's  Italian  wine,  eggs  and  buttermilk  will 
give  me  strength.  There  is  no  epidemic  dysentery  in 
the  hospital ;  the  sickness  in  the  hospital  except  among 
the  refugees  from  Arkansas  is  much  less  than  usual. 
I  brought  on  the  attack,  probably,  by  hard  work  among 
the  miserable  refugees,  the  most  worthless  and  ignorant 
set  of  human  beings  I  ever  saV,  — but  they  are  human 
and  must  be  cared  for.  There  are  some  veiy  nice  ex- 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  151 

ceptions  and  many  interesting  children  among  them, 
however.  Mr.  Yeatman  thinks  tea  will  be  good  for  me 
and  has  sent  me  some  very  exquisite  black  tea,  sent  to 
him  from  China ;  also  a  wonderful  teakettle,  contain- 
ing a  kerosene  lamp  and  boiler,  and  sundry  other  fix- 
tures ;  also  teapot,  teacup  and  saucer  of  white  china. 
I  am  very  weak  but  hope  to  get  well  soon  ;  I  have  just 
got  your  letter.  I  hope  you  have  some  flowers ;  I  have 
a  sweet  bouquet  on  my  table. 

[Then  the  Doctor  says.] 

P.S.  —  I  can  assure  you  that  Emily  is  doing  first- 
rate  and  that  you  can  feel  confident  of  her  speedy  re- 
covery. Her  illness  makes  her  uncomfortable;  it  is 
hard  to  bear  and  attended  with  much  exhausting  pain. 
Emily  has  borne  her  sickness  bravely;  has  been  happy 
and  contented.  Allow  me  also  to  say  that  I  am  under 
many  obligations  to  her  and  esteem  her  very  much. 

I.  R. 


LETTER   L. 

BENTON  BARRACKS,  July  3. 

DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  am  happy  to  inform  you  that  I 
continue  to  gain.  This  afternoon  the  Doctor  came 
over  and  made  me  some  tea  in  the  wonderful  teapot. 
I  must  say  my  opinion  of  tea  remains  unchanged.  So 
I  made  the  Doctor  drink  it  up.  The  teakettle  will  be 


152  MEMOIR   OF 

useful  for  many  purposes.  There  is  no  need  of  your 
coming  out  to  me,  and  I  am  afraid  the  climate  would 
make  you  sick.  I  enclose  a  letter  that  may  interest 
you,  it  is  from  a  woman  whose  only  sou  died  here. 
She  came  and  took  care  of  him  during  his  last  days. 

She  recovered  from  this  attack  and  resumed  her 
usual  duties.  The  change  of  the  Institution  at 
Benton  Barracks  from  a  hospital  for  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers  to  a  home  for  "  contrabands  "  and 
refugees  became  more  complete.  Most  of  the  nurses 
with  whom  she  had  been  associated  left  the  hos- 
pital, and  Dr.  Russell  proposed  to  leave  it.  As  the 
season  advanced,  the  malarial  fever  which  had  at- 
tacked her  on  her  coming  back  from  Vicksburg 
returned  with  much  severity.  She  recovered  suffi- 
ciently to  come  home,  but  was  exceedingly  feeble 
and  exhausted  when  she  reached  Cambridge  in 
August,  18G4.  Her  health  and  strength  were  not 
restored  until  winter ;  and  then  she  labored  in 
such  ways  as  she  could  for  the  freedmen  and 
refugees;  of  this  however  I  can  add  nothing  to 
the  account  already  quoted  from  "  Women's  Work 
in  the  War."  She  then  began  her  efforts  for  the 
establishment  of  a  hospital  in  Cambridge.  The 
extracts  I  make  from  the  reports  which  she  printed 
will  tell  her  own  story  of  this  matter. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  153 


EXTRACT  FROM  THE  KEPORT  OF  THE  CAMBRIDGE 
HOSPITAL,  1870-71. 

From  the  time  of  the  first  settlement  of  Cambridge 
until  the  year  1865,  there  was  no  Hospital  for  this 
city,  unless  the  Almshouse  can  be  called  such.  There 
has  been  for  a  long  time  a  growing  need  of  such  an 
institution.  The  hospitals  of  Boston  had  not  room 
for  all,  or  a  large  number,  of  the  sick  poor  of  Cam- 
bridge. Nor  was  it  right  that,  with  our  means  and 
advantages,  we  should  be  dependent  upon  another 
city  for  the  care  of  our  own  citizens.  It  therefore 
seemed  necessary  that  we  should  have  a  suitable  Hos- 
pital of  our  own,  where  the  sick  and  disabled  poor  of 
Cambridge  could  be  cared  for. 

In  the  fall  of  1865,  a  number  of  the  citizens  of 
Cambridge  made  me  donations  for  the  purpose  of  com- 
mencing such  an  institution.  The  next  step  was  to 
procure  a  house.  I  did  not  succeed  in  finding  one  I 
could  have  until  the  spring  of  1867.  I  then  rented 
for-one  year  a  small  house,  which  I  opened  as  a  Hos- 
pital in  May.  When  I  opened  the  Hospital,  I 
had  not  sufficient  means  to  carry  it  through  one 
year ;  but  I  had  faith  that  all  needful  wants  would  be 
supplied,  and  they  were.  I  was  sustained  through 
the  year,  and  closed  with  sufficient  funds  to  pay  my 
rent  for  another  year,  and  also  a  small  sum  to  begin 
again  upon. 

I  was  obliged  to  suspend  .at  the  end  of  the  first 
year,  the  owner  wishing  to  make  another  disposition 


154  MEMOIR  OF 

of  the  house.  That  first  year  was  one  of  success,  — 
so  much  so,  that  I  felt  encouraged  to  reopen  the  Hos- 
pital as  soon  as  I  could  procure  a  house.  I  was 
obliged  to  wait  until  the  fall  of  18G9  before  I  could 
find  a  suitable  house,  and  a  landlord  willing  to  lease 
me  one  for  such  a  purpose.  In  the  mean  time  a  Fair 
had  been  held,  which  added  materially  to  our  funds. 
Assistance  also  came  in  from  other  sources. 

In  December,  18G9,  I  reopened  the  Hospital  on 
Prospect  Street,  in  a  convenient  house  on  the  corner  of 
Prospect  and  Hampshire  Streets,  where  we  have  re- 
mained until  this  time.  During  these  two  years  we 
have  received  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  patients,  — 
forty  the  first  year,  eighty -two  the  second,  —  many  of 
them  very  serious  cases,  and  several  of  long  duration. 
Out  of  this  number  we  had  four  deaths  :  the  others 
either  recovered  entirely  or  were  very  materially  bene- 
fited. We  have  also  treated  a  number  of  out-patients  in 
the  Dispensary.  The  patients  are  mostly  persons  of 
small  means,  or  in  very  modei'ate  circumstances,  — 
hard-working,  industrious  women,  who  earn  their  own 
support,  and,  when  they  have  families,  supplying  either 
wholly  or  in  part  their  needs  also ;  but,  when  sick  or 
disabled,  they  can  neither  support  themselves,  nor  be 
properly  cared  for  in  their  homes. 

Others  are  domestics,  who  cannot  conveniently  be 
taken  care  of  in  their  places,  and  usually  have  no 
home  to  go  to,  nor  means  to  pay  for  their  board  and 
medical  care  and  nursing.  We  have  had  several  such 
at  the  Hospital,  and  sent  them  out  well  and  able  to 
take  care  of  themselves  again. 


EMILY  ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  155 

Another  and  very  interesting  class  are  children. 
Some  of  these  can  be  soon  restored  ;  but  many  others  re- 
quire long  care  and  very  skilful  medical  treatment  before 
they  can  be  cured,  or  helped  as  far  as  their  cases  will 
admit.  All  who  have  seen  suffering  children  know 
how  hard  it  is  for  them  to  bear  their  ailments,  even 
with  all  the  alleviations  which  money  and  care  can  give. 
It  is  far  more  hard  for  them  when  they  have  but  few, 
if  any,  of  the  comforts  an  invalid  needs ;  and  but  little 
care,  and  that  little  unskilful  and  irregular.  Few, 
except  physicians,  know  how  many  of  these  cases  there 
are. 

The  surgical  and  medical  treatment  has  been  under 
the  daily  direction  of  Dr.  Charles  E.  Vaughan  and  Dr. 
J.  T.  G.  Nichols,  who  have  visited  the  Hospital  in 
alternate  months  since  its  commencement,  giving  us 
their  invaluable  aid  most  generously  aud  kindly;  thus 
granting  freely  to  the  poorest  patient  all  the  skill  the 
richest  could  provide. 

In  the  first  year  of  our  work,  Dr.  S.  Cabot  of  Boston, 
very  kindly  gave  us  his  valuable  advice.  Since  then, 
Dr.  Richard  M.  Hodges,  of  Boston,  has  several  times 
assisted  as  consulting  and  operating  surgeon.  We  are 
much  indebted  to  Dr.  M.  Wyman  for  his  advice  and 
assistance,  and  also  to  Dr.  C.  Bullock  for  very  valu- 
able dental  services.  Other  physicians,  also  have  most 
generously  offered  their  aid. 

With  regard  to  our  means  of  support,  we  have  no 
fund  from  which  to  draw.  Our  only  maintenance  has 
been  the  funds  coming  in  from  time  to  time,  a  small 


156  MEMOIR  OF 

part  of  which  has  been  the  moderate  amount  paid  by 
patients  who  are  able  to  pay  for  the  care  and  treat- 
ment they  receive.  We  have  sometimes  been  very 
poor,  —  so  poor,  that  twice  we  almost  stopped.  Then 
aid  has  come  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  we  have  been 
enabled  to  go  on  with  our  work.  In  the  fall  of  1870, 
the  city  government  came  generously  to  our  aid  by 
appropriating  $750  for  the  rent  of  the  house  we  occupy. 
They  showed  us  the  same  kindness  last  fall :  thus 
our  rent  for  this  year  is  secured. 

At  the  same  time,  the  Hospital  took  a  very  import- 
ant step  onward.  A  number  of  the  gentlemen  of 
Cambridge  consented  to  act  as  Trustees  for  the  institu- 
tion, and,  forming  themselves  into  a  Board  of  Directors, 
obtained  from  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  an 
Act  of  Incorporation  to  the  Cambridge  Hospital ;  and 
the  same  has  been  duly  organized  under  the  said  Act. 

The  Hospital  was  first  opened  as  a  Hospital  for 
Women  and  Children,  taking  in  no  male  patient  over  six 
years  of  age ;  but,  now  that  its  usefulness  has  steadily 
increased,  it  is  hoped  that  it  will  be  the  beginning  of  a 
General  Hospital  for  the  City  of  Cambridge,  large 
enough  and  rich  enough  to  take  in  all  of  either  sex 
who  can  be  benefited  by  hospital  treatment.  .  .  . 

This  is  a  good  work  that  has  come  upon  us,  —  car- 
ing for  the  sick  and  disabled  ;  helping  "  those  we  shall 
have  with  us  always,"  —  helping  them  not  only  in  the 
body,  but  sometimes,  also,  receiving  the  great  privilege 
of  helping  them  in  a  higher  way,  and  one  that  will  be 
a  help  in  the  great  future  which  is  coming  to  us  all. 

EMILY  E.  PARSONS. 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  157 

<£0mm0nfoealtfj  of  fHassracfjusetts. 

IN  THE  YEAR  ONE  THOUSAND  EIGHT  HUNDRED  AND   SIXTY-NINE. 
AN  ACT  TO   INCORPORATE  THE   CAMBRIDGE   HOSPITAL. 

Be  it  enacted  by  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives  in 
General  Court  assembled,  and  by  the  authority  of  the  same 
as  follows :  — 

SECT.  1.  Isaac  Livermore,  Sumner  R.  Mason,  W. 
W.  Wellington,  Kinsley  Twining,  Benjamin  Tilton, 
Alexander  McKenzie,  Henry  B.  Walcott,  their  asso- 
ciates and  successors,  are  hereby  made  a  corporation, 
by  the  name  of  the  CAMBRIDGE  HOSPITAL,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  maintaining  a  Hospital  in  the  City  of  Cam- 
bridge, for  sick  and  disabled  persons;  with  all  the 
powers  and  privileges,  and  subject  to  all  the  duties, 
restrictions,  and  liabilities  set  forth  in  the  general  laws 
which  now  or  may  hereafter  be  in  force  relating  to  such 
corporations ;  and,  for  the  purpose  aforesaid,  said  cor- 
poration may  hold  real  and  personal  property  to  an 
amount  not  exceeding  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars. 

SECT.  2.     This  act  shall  take  effect  upon  its  passage. 

House  of  Representatives,  Feb.  9,  1871. 
Passed  to  be  enacted. 

HARVEY  JEWELL,  Speaker. 


158  MEMOIR   OF 

This  Hospital  continued  open,  and  under  her 
charge  until  May  1872.  She  lived  in  it,  making 
short  calls  at  her  home  occasionally,  but  acting 
always  as  matron  and  nurse  at  the  Hospital  with 
such  assistance  as  the  funds  provided  enabled  her 
to  have. 

When  the  Hospital  was  discontinued  she  re- 
ceived from  a  Committee  of  the  Trustees,  the 
following  letter. 

CAMBRIDGEPORT,  May  20,  1872. 

Miss  EMILY  E.  PARSONS:  DEAR  MADAM,  —  The 
undersigned,  in  behalf  of  the  Cambridge  Hospital  Cor- 
poration, in  closing  their  official  connection  with  you, 
desire  to  express  their  high  appreciation  of  your  valu- 
able services  in  the  establishment  and  management  of 
this  institution. 

In  their  judgment,  the  Hospital,  during  its  brief 
existence,  has  done  great  good  in  restoring  the  health, 
or  adding  to  the  comfort  of  many,  who  without  its 
benefits,  might  have  suffered  from  poverty  or  neglect. 
They  feel  that  whatever  good  has  been  done  is  mainly 
owing  to  your  self-sacrificing  labors  and  untiring  de- 
votion ;  they  honor  alike  your  faith  and  your  ivorks. 
They  deeply  regret  the  necessity,  which  compels  them 
to  close  the  doors  of  the  Hospital,  and  thus  to  deprive 
the  City,  for  a  time  at  least,  of  the  benefit  of  your  self- 
imposed  work  of  philanthropy  and  charity. 


EMILY   ELIZABETH   PARSONS.  159 

With  sincere  thanks  for  what  you  have  accomplished, 
and  with  pleasant  recollections  of  their  official  and  per- 
sonal intercourse  with  you,  the  undersigned  would 
subscribe  themselves  very  truly  yours. 

ISAAC  LlVERMORE,       ^  Committee 
W.  W.  WELLINGTON,  >  in  behalf  of 
W.  A.  BULLARD,          j  Trustees. 

The  experiment  made  the  need  and  useful- 
ness of  such  a  Hospital  certain ;  the  funds  grad- 
ually increased  ;  and  during  her  last  illness,  not 
long  before  her  death,  but  while  she  was  still  able 
to  understand  the  statement,  and  express  her 
thankfulness,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  reading  to  her 
a  paragraph  from  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser, 
to  the  effect,  that  efforts  were  soon  to  be  made  to 
increase  the  funds  of  the  Cambridge  Hospital, 
"  originally  instituted  by  Miss  Emily  E.  Parsons," 
from  $17,000,  their  present  amount,  to  8100,000, 
which  would  be  sufficient  to  place  it  upon  a  per- 
manent foundation. 

THEOPHILUS  PARSONS. 


University  Press :  John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


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